Reasons For Survival
by PrussianKnight9
Summary: Jim Kirk found himself hopelessly stranded on an unidentified planet, thanks to Khan's faulty transporter. Unfortunately, he was also stuck with the very space terrorist he had managed to capture. To Jim's horror, he finds himself becoming increasingly dependent on Khan as survival rapidly becomes difficult in such foreign environments. But he can't trust this guy... can he?
1. Chapter 1

_**IMPORTANT NOTE:**_

**Please be aware that anything scientific (geographical, astronomical, technological, anatomical, etc) is purely made up for the sake of this story. Minimal research was conducted to make it seem realistic, but I apologize to anyone with knowledge/familiarity to these subjects because they are mostly inaccurate here. This is just an excuse to write some Kirk & Khan interactions.**

**This is a UA fic (_Universe Alterations;_ changes have been made to certain events that have occurred throughout the movie to fit the story of the fanfiction. Set during events of STID) which takes place not long after Khan surrenders to Kirk's crew. **

**Also, I am fairly new to the Star Trek fandom and my knowledge of Khan is limited only to Benedict Cumberbatch's representation of the character. Should anything be OOC or contain incorrect character features (this includes Kirk and any other characters), I am deeply sorry. Enjoy!**

* * *

It didn't exactly matter what some people thought, because though infamously known outside of Starfleet as a mischievous troublemaker prone to getting himself knotted up in a girl's panties, Captain James T. Kirk of the USS _Enterprise _was nothing short of a genius.

Despite the couple of ill rumors floating around here and there to hurt his reputation Jim continued to uphold his status as famous Captain that helped abolish Nero and his cronies for good. Perhaps it had something to do with his knack for getting into trouble, or maybe he just had an unfortunate aura that attracted space terrorists; Jim found himself regretting his famous position a little bit since everyone was expecting him to be the hero once again and save the world from peril.

Anyone with a healthy set of eyes and a telly wouldn't miss the obvious threat of a certain Starfleet agent gone rogue, instantly catching London's eye and being placed under immediate candidate for extermination. To everyone's knowledge on earth, the man John Harrison was dead, found and killed by the crew of Captain Kirk. The news reported of the discovery of Harrison on a deserted planet and his instant obliteration as dozens of torpedoes were unleashed onto his location. According to the press, that had been the end of it. The Kelvin Memorial Archive was undergoing reconstruction, and all was well.

However, if one was currently aboard the_ Enterprise_, they would know that things were not. In fact, they were as far from 'well' as one could possibly get. Everyone was fully aware that Harrison was not actually dead, and that as of now he was probably breathing the same air as the rest of the crew members on the ship. Harrison, or rather, _Khan,_ was spared on Jim Kirk's orders, claiming that he be taken prisoner and returned to Earth to face trial for his actions. In all sense, it was the morally right thing to do. After all, blindly blowing up a person, no matter how dangerous they were, was not something that would necessarily be looked upon as noble and wise.

Unfortunately for Jim, Khan turned out to be more than just a man wielding a gun.

After everything that occurred, Jim had thought that he understood this enigmatic superhuman and how he worked. He believed he knew everything there was to know about his strengths. Unfortunately, something he did not bother to look into was Khan's weaknesses, if he had any. Anyone could take one look at Khan and think that this guy had none, as did Jim. And as a result of his unthought-of carelessness, to his great disbelief, it had been just that small part of the prisoner's mistake (if you could call it that) that had led them both to their doom. It was so silly, a hilarious notion yet the more you think about it, it was truly frightening to some degree. Every time Jim found himself wallowing in self-pity and bitter anger, he had to constantly remind himself that it was Khan's fault if anything else, and it definitely wasn't Jim's. No one could've seen it coming. Not even Khan.

~*o*~

A horrible, ear-splitting screech resonated throughout the thick, almost tangible atmosphere. Startled by this abrupt call, a flurry of winged creatures took flight into the air, casting a dark shadow across the foliage for a split second before scattering off in different directions across the sky. Along with this sudden series of movements returned the consciousness of Jim Kirk, his eyes snapping open only to squeeze them back shut with a cry of pain as he woke up with a face full of mud.

Jim rolled over on his back, groaning as muscles protested from a harsh landing. He felt as if he'd jumped off a ten storey building onto a field of coarse rocks. His uniform was sticking uncomfortably to his skin and small movements caused the mud under him to make sickening squelching noises. He took deep breaths to assess any internal damage, and thankfully his lungs and ribs were still intact, if not bruised a little. Jim finally opened his eyes and heaved himself into a sitting position. He was in the middle of what closely resembled a tropical forest, yet everything seemed different and out of place. The trees were massive and of varying thickness, and every inch of ground was covered in strangely soft, mossy undergrowth. Upon closer inspection, Jim saw that the leaves looked a lot like flat bells, and had a yellowish hue to them. Other strange vegetation surrounded him, and eerie hissing noises echoed throughout the forest.

He was in some sort of swamp, Jim realized, and while the canopy overhead was shielding him from a substantial amount of light, the air was warm, wet, and suffocating, with a musky smell of decomposing wood hanging over him. Jim ran his fingers along his scalp for any injuries, and tested out his limbs to make sure they were still fully functional. His entire front was soaked from lying face down in the soil, and the communicator in his pocket was trashed. Jim dragged himself up to his feet and looked around hopelessly, trying and failing to deduce his current location.

While not being an expert on nature and its habitats, it was easy enough to notice that this wasn't Earth. Jim knew that the _Enterprise _hadn't been moving the last time he was on it, due to some mishap in the warp core. Perhaps they weren't too far from Kronos, but that would be unlikely because all this water and life was very different from the rocky, barren characteristics of the planets that resided within the Klingon's vicinity. Jim fumbled around with his useless communicator, attempting to turn it back on and catch a signal somehow.

It was ridiculous; he should have known better than to run into things blindly. But it was purely out of impulse to jump after the prisoner attempting to escape, and he had got caught up in this mess. He would have succeeded in the recapture, too, if their little brawl hadn't resulted in one of their elbows smashing into the activation button. It was too late when Jim tried to move out of its range; he had already begun to dematerialize. There was no point in trying to figure out how Khan managed to get his portable transporter aboard; right now his first priority was to find a way off this planet.

Despite being preoccupied with this, Jim's senses were heightened considerably due to slight paranoia. So that was why when he heard something, he immediately stopped all motion and breathing. Something, very suddenly and faintly, had sounded from far ahead. Jim flinched and backed away, eyes searching wildly through the dense woods. It was a muffled crashing, as if a tree had been knocked to the ground. There it was again, and again, and now Jim was sure that whatever it was, it was heading straight for him judging by the gradually clarifying noise. The bushes began to tremble and quake, and Jim was reminded of the time when he was chased by a gigantic creature on the icy world he had landed on when Spock first kicked him off the _Enterprise._ His heart skipped a beat, and he scrambled backwards, only to slip in the tangle of vines and land on his bottom with a splash.

Out of the thick weave of branches burst a single, pale figure clad in black, stopping dead in from of Jim. They stared at each other for a split second in total silence, then—

"_Shit!"_ Jim squawked, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. "You almost gave—I thought—big—" The smoldering glare he was currently receiving didn't do much to help ease the blood pounding in his ears. "Could you possibly run _any _louder?"

"_What did you do to the transporter?"_ was the first thing Khan uttered, marching up to Kirk in a storm of fury. "Tell me!"

"What? I didn't do anything!"

"Lies!" snarled Khan, grabbing Jim's shirt and hauling him up to eye level. "It was set to Kronos. I never altered the destination ever since my initial arrival prior to yours. How did you manage to change the course without my knowing?"

"I didn't touch your transporter thing!" Jim yelled back, his eyes blown wide with surprise and a bit of fear as Khan's enraged face glowered from only mere inches away, as if it were about to explode. "I didn't even know you could still access it in the first place, I swear!"

"Don't take me for a fool, Kirk!" barked Khan, spraying Jim's face with spit. "Your foolish tricks have gotten both yourself and I into greater complications."

"Look, just calm down, now!" Jim tried to pry off the pale fingers that dug into his uniform in a death grip. Khan shoved him away, disgusted. "I swear I didn't do anything to your transporter. I don't even know where we are. I assumed you would know."

Khan continued to regard him with a suspicious scowl. "Why did you try to escape?" he asked gruffly.

"What?"

"When I landed, I was alone. The transporter beams one down to a designated location specifically programmed to one significant area; it does not leave people astray. I could only predict you had taken off before me."

"Well maybe it broke—"

"_Of course_ it was a malfunction, Kirk!" Khan bellowed.

"Then maybe it was fucked up enough to spew its transport subjects everywhere!" Jim spluttered back. "I didn't—" He took a deep breath to calm himself, and looked at the other in his eyes. "I never tried to run away. The last thing I remember is trying to stop you from beaming off, and I got caught in it. When I woke up, I was lying right here and I haven't moved since."

Khan thinned his lips. His scrutinizing eyes flickered over Jim's body, taking in the mud and dirt that was caking his face and clothes. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he seemed to relent, albeit grudgingly. "You will pay for what you have done," he told the Captain in a dangerous tone.

"Funny, that's what I've been telling you this entire time," Jim muttered under his breath. "You _will_ answer to your crimes, Harrison. Don't think that this changes anything. But right now we need to get out of here. Grab your transporter and let's beam back up to the ship."

"My name is not Harrison," Khan spat. "And that's not possible."

"What do you mean?" There was a pregnant pause. "Why not?"

Khan whipped around abruptly to walk away, and Jim had to scramble to keep up. "My landing was harsh. A violent contact with the surface, I collided with the transporter and it shattered upon impact. There are no means of fixing it unless I have the proper tools which I do not have access to."

"Wait." Jim panted with effort to match the long, seemingly effortless strides over the tangled undergrowth. "So you're saying—the transporter is gone? As in, destroyed? You _crushed_ it under your own _weight_—"

"It is hardly surprising, Kirk, as I was free-falling with nothing to slow my descent," Khan retorted dryly. "I assume it managed to beam you safely to the ground while it malfunctioned halfway through my own transportation, resulting in my rematerialization occurring two hundred feet above its original destination."

"And thank God for that," Jim mumbled. "Er, if our places were switched I would have died," he added hastily when Khan glanced at him pointedly. "I meant that it's good that you're superhuman and all."

He got no response and for that Jim was glad. He realized how quickly he was beginning to tire; it was hard enough stumbling over roots and wet vegetation, and sweat was already forming in droplets on his face. Khan didn't have so much as a scratch on him, save for his dark uniform which looked a little battered. It was difficult to breathe under the simmering heat while simultaneously dodging trees, and so he blindly followed the sound of footsteps ahead of him while he tried not to trip over his own feet.

Thankfully, they didn't have to go very far. They had passed numerous, small clearings and at the next one they had arrived to a complete stop. Catching his breath, Jim saw that the ground was carved into a mini crater-like scar that had obviously resulted from Khan's crash-landing. Half-buried in the muddy dip were the remains of what used to be a portable transporter, now smashed and broken beyond recognition and scraps of bent metal were scattered around its vicinity.

"Great," Jim said breathlessly. He approached the mangled device and crouched down, trying to wrench it free from the ground. It emerged from the soaked dirt with a sickening _schluck. _A couple of sparks burst from its core, and a tiny trickle of smoke billowed out. "It's gone. There's no way we can fix that."

"Yes, I am aware," Khan said sourly.

Jim sighed and sat down in the mud, not caring about his already soiled clothes anymore. "Is there anything else?" he asked wearily. "What about a radio? Or a flare, even?"

"I was not carrying anything other than this." Khan pulled out a small metal contraption from his pocket that looked suspiciously like a pocket knife. "My options are limited. As for a flare, it would be useless to use one at the current time of daylight, nor will a spaceship be able to pick up such an insignificant amount of heat from a vast expanse of space."

"Right, well." Jim felt lightheaded from panting so much. He wiped his face as best he could with a sleeve, smearing the yellow fabric with even more mud. "Have any idea where we are?"

"It is... difficult to pinpoint our exact location," Khan admitted after a pause. He eyed Jim's haggard state, and continued. "According to my estimations, this planet orbits a star that is approximately four times the size and mass of Earth's sun. While it is not entirely life-threatening, extended periods of exposure to its rays could potentially cause radiation poisoning. However, this planet seems to have a thicker ozone layer, which aids the prevention of a substantial amount of ultraviolet rays from reaching the life below. Take a look around, Kirk. Life is thriving.

"Unfortunately for you, other atmospheric gases are present amongst the ozone gas in varying densities in varying altitudes. Oxygen is among them, but there are copious quantities of nitrogen present as well which is why you tire so quickly. You managed to keep up with me here, Kirk, because we are surrounded by plants that create oxygen. You will not last long if you venture far from these woods."

"Wonderful." Jim shot the standing man a withering look to mask the despair that seized his heart. "Absolutely fucking wonderful. I am trapped in a forest on a planet in the middle of potentially unmarked space territory with a three hundred year old frozen man that doesn't need air to live and will watch as my body slowly shuts down from its lack of oxygen and then will abandon my corpse, merrily on his way to destroy the rest of the universe in cold vengeance." Jim grabbed a handful of mud and threw it as hard as he could. It landed on a tree trunk three feet away with a _splat._ "Nope, this can't be happening. I'm a fucking _Captain. _No. This is not okay. I need to get back to my ship. _Now."_

"You are overreacting," Khan drawled. "Even if you were to escape the confinements of this forest, you would still be able to survive for at least twenty four hours with water. That is plenty of time to get back to the woods. And if it is of any assurance, I do not plan on destroying anything else until I am positive I can get back to the _Enterprise._ I have no ill intentions for this planet whatsoever."

"Yep, that's really comforting," Jim said sarcastically. He knew he was pushing it too far and it was dangerous to mess with this man, but right now he could care less. "No worries, you're not going to harm this world, only a ship with my crew on it and my home planet holding _billions of intelligent life forms. _Boy, I can't wait to get you back aboard!"

"Let me remind you that without me you will have absolutely no chance of escaping this place," Khan enunciated firmly, his cold eyes glittering. "Ignore me and your bones will be buried forever on this planet while your friends scavenge the galaxy in a hopeless attempt to discover your decaying remains."

"What am I supposed to do then?" Jim snapped back. "I can't just sit here trying to breathe while you run around doing God knows what!"

Khan's eyebrow twitched. "Are you currently in possession of a communicator used by the crew of the _Enterprise?"_ he asked.

"Yeah, but it's broken." Jim pulled the device out of his pocket and studied it. There was a crack running down the top, and it was soaked with water and soil. He gave it to Khan, who snatched it up before bringing it up to his eyes. "It won't work anymore."

"Fortunately it doesn't seem to have suffered a great deal of damage." Khan turned the device in his fingers this way and that, carefully raking his gaze over every crack and crevice. "It may be possible for me to fix this. First it must dry out, and then I shall take it apart and assess its internal condition."

"Yeah, okay. Whatever." Jim didn't really trust Khan, nor did he believe him either. He wasn't exactly worried though, because there was only so much you could do with a broken communicator. If Khan was going to kill him, he'd do it quickly with the pocket knife.

Speaking of which...

"Give me the knife," Jim said suddenly, holding out his hand. Pausing in the middle of turning around, Khan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I said give me the knife," Jim repeated. "I don't feel safe with you carrying it."

Khan looked almost amused. "And what make you think I trust you in the possession of such sharp instruments, Captain?" he inquired, the corner of his mouth uplifting just a hair.

Jim wasn't deterred. "Because I won't be able to do anything with it other than slitting my own throat. I'm not going to attack you." He looked at the other man with a firm look. "But I need you to promise me the same."

"Promises are a child's play, Mister Kirk," Khan replied, but he did reach into his pockets and place the knife into Jim's open palm. "I will not promise you anything. However, I assure you that I will refrain from acts of hostility towards you and your crew until our return back to the _Enterprise_ is confirmed."

"Right. Thanks," Jim muttered. "Just fix the damn communicator."

"I am working on it."

"Also, I don't want you leaving my sight," Jim added quickly. Khan's frown deepened. "I don't want any of your excuses. You're sticking with me."

"Mister Kirk." Jim was fixed under a steely gaze. "Despite your disadvantage you still insist your claim of power over me. However, we are not currently aboard the Enterprise. Though my position as your prisoner still upholds, there is nothing that is physically restraining me. Therefore I will utilize my freedom as I choose."

"How do I know you're not just going to run away?" growled Jim angrily.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Khan's lips, and it was very unsettling. "I guess you'll just have to... _trust _me, Captain."

Jim was not impressed. He heaved himself up to his feet, wobbling a little. Approaching the stiff figure, he pronounced very clearly, "I am not going to play any games with you. Now, you will _stay _where I can see you, or I will pin you down and cut off every single one of your limbs and plant them into the ground."

Khan eyed him distastefully, but seemed to realize that Jim was serious, however empty the threat actually was. "Very well, Captain."

"Good." Jim still didn't feel safe, and he felt as if Khan was going to pounce on him any minute. "I want you to stay in a five foot radius away from me," he ordered, noting the man's long arms, "but don't go any farther than three meters from where I stand. Understood?"

"I shall do as you wish." There were obvious discomforts for both of them at this new restriction, but it was the only thing Jim could think of at the moment. He was rapidly running out of ideas of what to do next. Without any means of communication, he was lost. He had absolutely nothing. No sense of direction, location, no food or water, no supplies, no knowledge of this planet, and the only thing he did have was a murderous superhuman that he had been yelling at on a spaceship a couple hours ago. Or had it been longer than that? He lost track of time as well.

Jim began to walk. He was careful not to overexert himself, and made sure he stepped over every root and vine. Behind him, he could hear another pair of footsteps following.

"Where are you going?" Khan's voice reached him from exactly five feet away.

"Finding water," Jim replied, pushing away a low hanging branch away from his face. "Once I got that I'm going to find a place where I can rest. Food afterwards. If you haven't fixed the communicator by then, I'm going to keep going and I will build my own spaceship."

"Water is everywhere, Mister Kirk, look under your feet." When Jim wrinkled his nose, he added, "Unless you wish to continue until you can go no further and collapse from dehydration. Not entirely the cleanest, but judging by your looks it seems you have already discarded any regards for sanitation."

"There a difference between rolling in mud and _drinking_ it," Jim said, annoyed. "There's got to be a stream somewhere."

"I doubt you will find a suitable running source in time at this pace, and even if you do, you will not know if it is safe to consume. The water we stand on is not toxic, the healthy plants being the evidence."

"Listen, will you just shut up and let me—"

"No, Kirk, _you_ listen to me." Jim cursed and reluctantly turned around to face Khan's stony face. "You and I both want to get off this planet. Do you believe I am simply giving you this advice out of the kindness of my heart? I didn't think so. Bear it in your mind that your crew will not allow me back on the _Enterprise_ alone. To ensure my return as well I must keep you alive as much as you try to convince yourself that I think otherwise."

"I don't care what your reason is," Jim retorted. "You're the kind of guy that will not hesitate to kill if something doesn't go your way. I am not taking the risk."

"Then you should've killed me back then," Khan countered back.

"Like I said, we all make mistakes."

"Spare me from your self-pities," Khan scoffed. "I will not have you drinking mercury laced fluids."

"Oh please," Jim snarled, whipping around to continue to trudge through the woods, a little faster this time. "Someone will see and think that you're worried about me!"

"I am concerned that your reckless tendencies will disrupt my path."

"Aha!" Jim skidded to a halt, breathing heavily, in the middle of his walk. There, he stood before a small mound of soil sloping upwards, where a steady trickle of clear water was running in small rivulets down into the swampy moss beds. "What was that you said?" With a smug look, he turned back to Khan.

The latter did not smile.

Jim sighed harshly, throwing his hands up in the air. "Fuck! Alright, fine! If you're so worried about it being poisoned, why don't _you _give it a try?"

Khan's brow twitched, as it seemed to do when he was curious, or irritated. "I beg your pardon?"

"You taste the water," Jim said slowly, as if explaining procedures to a trainee. "And you decide whether it's safe or not. And if it isn't, well—it doesn't really matter, does it? You're not going to die from it."

It made perfect sense. Even Khan must have thought so. Jim silently congratulated himself. Finally, he thought wearily. An upside to being stranded on a tropical planet with a homicidal superman.

"I will test the water," Khan ground out, "and inform you of its toxicity levels."

"Five feet," Jim warned as the man stepped forward. He backed away as Khan approached the tiny stream. Stooping stiffly, a pale hand stretched forward until the clear liquid began pouring into the cupped palm. Jim watched intently as Khan brought his full hand almost delicately to his lips. Not knowing exactly what he was expecting, the Captain stared as Khan's throat bobbed, indicating that he had swallowed, and both of them seemed to wait for a reaction.

Nothing happened. No keeling over in agony, no melting down from the insides. Jim raised his eyebrows.

"It appears... unpolluted," he stated finally, a strange glint flickering in his eyes.

"What a relief," Jim said sarcastically, before tumbling down and thrusting his open mouth against the stream, allowing the cool liquid to rush past his chapped lips and parched throat. He gulped the water greedily, pausing only to intake gasps of air. _Amazing._ He had obviously forgotten how wonderful it was to drink. He was thirsty, _so_ thirsty. Suddenly he found that rescue could wait, if only he could just _keep drinking—_

"Stop!" Jim ignored whoever was speaking, as long as he kept up this beautiful sensation of swallowing water. He needed more and so he pushed his face into the stream for better access— "Kirk, you will drown yourself!" And suddenly, Jim found himself forcibly being wrenched away from his beloved stream, which made a feral shout escape from his throat, a noise that surprised even him, and very abruptly his vision was full of Khan's face. "James T. Kirk, look at me. You are not in your right mind—"

Jim yelled a string of expletives and before he even knew it, he had swung his fist out and it collided hard with a pale jaw. It hadn't caused injury of course, but it was enough for Khan to slightly loosen his grip on his uniform for Jim to wrench free. The only thing that was going through his mind was blind, uncontrolled rage and a sense of loss; he wanted to get back to the stream, to drink, anything to have that feeling of water running down his throat back, so he tried to crawl. Pain exploded in his head as something very firm hit the side of his temple with a nasty _crack. _Dazed, Jim crumpled and fell into the slushy swamp.

Thick, brown water rushed into his nose and mouth and Jim coughed and choked furiously when they reached his lungs. He was vaguely aware of something (or someone) slapping his back with tremendous force—he felt as if his spine would snap in half—and the repeated actions caused him to retch. Jim's stomach lurched, and he violently expulsed the water he had managed to intake in the last minute or so. A couple of more heaves and he managed to vomit the last remaining drop of whatever he had left in his stomach, which left him wheezing for breath.

Khan's face once more swam into view into his hazy line of sight. "Can you breathe?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.

Jim doubled over as another series of coughs wracked his body. "My nose and chest's stingin', m'back hurts like hell, but oth'wise m'fine!" he rasped out.

Khan let out a feral growl as he straightened up. "That was foolish of you," he gritted out. "You were cutting off your airway."

"I was trying to drink—" Jim began indignantly but Khan cut him off impatiently.

"You were trying to _drown yourself_," he said with more emphasis. "Tell me, Kirk, do you recall any other thoughts in your mind other than the single recurring thought of 'I must drink'?"

Frowning, Jim went back to the point of time where he had been lapping hungrily at the stream, and was unnerved to discover that Khan was right. It must have shown on his face, because the man narrowed his eyes. "Thought as much," he spat. "This is no ordinary stream, Kirk. It holds a certain chemical property that renders one incapable of controlling their actions. I also suspect the presence of a neutron star within this system. Water manipulated by such stars tend to interact strangely especially with human physiology due to the gravitational waves.

"Either way, they cannot stop once they start; it could be fatal as you so kindly demonstrated. Had I not stopped you, Kirk, you would have died."

Jim stared, open-mouthed, horrified at this revelation. "You—you knew all this." His voice came out as barely above a hoarse whisper. It had barely been an hour of wakefulness in this cursed forest and Khan had already tried to kill him once. "Y-you said—you _let_ me—"

"I incorrectly assumed that you would be wiser in your consummation," Khan snapped. "Also, my attempts to restrict you from this water would go unheeded, as you would only insist on drinking it anyway, accusing me of falsities."

"You could have at least _warned_ me—"

"I myself was not aware of its potential, until after you had begun drinking. Believe me when I say that I had not intentionally attempted to guide you to your death."

"This is why I have trust issues," Jim muttered, fuming. He glared up at the standing figure, only noticing now that he himself was soaked to the core while the other man was as dry as the desert. He felt a sudden flash of resentment. "Alright then, let's say that this water is... addictive."

"Your point?"

"Tasteless, odorless, no noticeable evidence of the chemical you mentioned. That's some sneaky stuff." He gripped a nearby tree and its coat of vines to haul himself up. There was no point in arguing further. At least, he was alive.

"What are you implying?"

"Look, maybe it's not just this stream. What if it's all the water around us? Like you said before, the plants are thriving. Everything is so green it looks almost fake. And there's so much moss on the ground, and just as much water. But look at it closely; when I first woke up, I was lying real close to them and they were also green, but yellow as well. What if this weird chemical affects plants as well? They would just keep sucking up but it can't really die. Now why would the moss be yellow in so much wetness? Maybe because it absorbs too much water, because it was forced to, like how I suddenly craved to keep drinking."

Khan licked his lips, but didn't respond.

"I am not risking it again, but I bet this—" Jim stomped his foot, tossing the murky swamp gunk around. "—is the exact same water that we drank."

"So what are you planning to do now, _Captain?"_ Khan sneered. "All this profound knowledge you've just obtained will not get you anywhere."

"Is that another way of telling me that you will get rid of me now?" Jim shot back. "Now that I'm useless to you, you'll just kill me and move on?"

"If you continue to tempt me, Kirk—"

"No, I am trying to get you to tell the truth," Jim said venomously. "You're not the type of person to just go and save people, no matter how legitimate the reason might be. You were _made_ to kill."

Khan's jaw tightened, and if possible, he straightened his back even more. "Think what you will," he stated impassively. "You may choose to do what you wish here. However I will remind you one last time that your chances of survival will decrease significantly in my absence. Make your choice."

Jim let out a long-suffering sigh. He was physically and mentally drained already, and playing mind games with Khan was definitely not helping. He achingly longed to be back in his bed, in his own quarters within the _Enterprise._ Screw captains and professionalism; he wanted to go home.

~*o*~

Dusk fell fast upon them and Jim was more than ready to turn in, shut his eyes and forget the world around him. Only, he knew that he couldn't. In fact, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to get any sleep at all. At some point, he and Khan managed to stumble across a small ditch in the soil; it had been created quite recently—recent as in still at least decades old—and half of the gnarled, twisted roots of an ancient tree were sticking over the edge in a natural, makeshift shelter of some sort. It was the best they could do for the day, and while Khan looked like he could go on for days on end, Jim was well past his limit. In the semi-darkness the captain collapsed against the rapidly sloping soil under the root canopy, gripping his chest as each breath sent stabbing pains through his lungs and ribs. He tried to swallow, only to groan as his throat walls scraped against each other like sandpaper. He watched warily as Khan stood before him, and held up a finger when he tried to move closer.

"Watch it," he croaked, pointing accusingly at the figure clad in black. "Five. Feet."

He couldn't see Khan's face because of the roots that sheltered him, but Jim saw the long legs slide back a step obediently. There was just enough room under the wooden canopy for two people, but that would require for them to be sitting mere centimeters apart, and it would be the last thing Jim would do, quite possibly literally. Instead, Khan sat cross-legged at his current location, and their eyes finally met. "I shall now try to determine whether this communicator carries any value or not," he announced calmly. A hand was outstretched. "The knife, Captain."

Jim let out a humorless snort. "Yeah right," he said flatly. "There's almost no light. I can barely see you, let alone a tiny device and it's even smaller innards."

"While I am no night dweller, my superior genetics allow me to see better in the dark. Of course," the shadowy figure added after a pause, "it can always wait until daylight if you insist. But surely you wouldn't object to a faster rescue?"

"While I want to get my ass beamed out of here as soon as possible," Jim began dryly, "I don't want to take unnecessary risks. I don't doubt your _highly superior_, ultra-sensitive night vision, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. Do it in the morning."

The only visible part of Khan were his eyes, which glinted eerily back at Jim. He could almost feel the mocking smirk coming from the man. "Very well, Captain," Khan replied smoothly. "Now if you really wish to be of any help tomorrow—you seemed rather concerned today that you weren't—then I suggest you find some rest. I will ensure that you do not suffocate from oxygen deprivation during sleep."

"You are definitely crazy," Jim stated, disbelief evident in his tone. "There is _no _way I am closing my eyes for even a second while you're sitting there watching me like the maniac you are."

"I thought there had been a 'five feet' rule established."

"You and rules don't go well together."

"Captain, I reassure you that in the unlikely event should I decide to terminate your life I'd do it when you have gained full consciousness."

"Wow," Jim gasped, faking awe. "You're such a comfort. I can now sleep in peace, thanks!"

"I am not in the jesting mood, Kirk." Khan sounded quiet and threatening. It was deeply disturbing.

"Can you turn around?" Jim said loudly, scowling into the darkness to mask his anxiety. "And move back a good couple of yards while you're at it. Even better, tie yourself up to one of the trees over there and stay that way."

There was silence on the other end and Jim wondered if Khan had left somehow, and so he was left to fidget nervously in the pitch dark, waiting for some sort of noise.

Thankfully there came a small series of shuffling and scraping noises, and the captain let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I am facing the other way, Kirk," Khan informed him, a hint of annoyance lacing his words. "That is quite enough for today, no?"

Jim didn't answer. They were only here for a few hours, and yet it felt like ages. To anyone else, the silence that settled upon them could be called peaceful. However it was quite possibly the exact opposite of serene.

He had promised himself that he would never fall asleep, digging his fingernails into his arm every time he felt his eyelids droop. Sometimes he even caught himself dozing off for a few seconds, only to jerk back awake and make sure he didn't have any stab wounds. Thankfully, he had none. He really wished he could see something; he didn't like being blind and it was hard to relax when he knew Khan was out there. Had he left at one point? Was he prowling about somewhere, or even trying to fix the communicator as he said he would? Or was he still at that exact location seven feet away where Jim had left him? He wasn't going to get up and feel around to check.

Jim knew that there was a reason behind everything Khan did. There was always a price. He just hoped he wouldn't have to pay it with his own life.

Despite his valiant efforts, Jim eventually slipped into a fitful slumber about a half hour later.

* * *

**Relatively fast-paced, I think, but oh well. Better than dragging it out for too long, I suppose. As I read this over, I feel like there are a few things that are missing/needs changing. But I'm not sure how yet, so hopefully this version is bearable. :P**

**Like? Love? Hate? Please tell me what you think; your reviews will be greatly appreciated! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all, thank you so much to the people who have liked/followed/favorite as well as reviewed this! It is a great thing knowing that the story has been enjoyed by many people. Special thanks towards the Guest reviews which I was not able to reply back to in person. **

**As a reminder, please note that this fanfic is canonically inaccurate and purely written for entertainment purposes. Should anything (be it medical, technological, Star Trek story-canonical, scientific, etc. etc.) be incorrect, I apologize. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

A searing light falling upon his closed eyes made Jim startle awake with a jerk. He twisted his head out of the sunlight's reach, and immediately regretted it. Pain shot up his spine as his bones and muscles protested from the stiff position he had been in. For a few moments he was blissfully unaware of his situation, the only complaints being his aching limbs and dry throat. _Wait a minute..._ He shifted slightly when the ground dug into his back, which also made him aware of his clothes that were clinging onto his grimy skin. _Oh, that was right._

Jim's head buzzed with disorientation, and his empty stomach churned into life, which brought back unpleasant memories from yesterday. The air was still thick, and he felt the humidity closing in on him like a suffocating trap that held him in from every direction. There was an uncomfortable weight settled upon his chest as if he were stuck under something heavy, and it caused slight difficulty to draw in each breath. He wanted to slip back into unconsciousness and sleep the sensation away.

But as soon as he heard the sound of cracking plastic, his eyes shot open and darted around to assess his surroundings. At once he spotted Khan, still in his uptight sitting position, tinkering with the communicator that had now been thoroughly... dissected. Jim saw that the device had been disassembled very precisely and the parts had been laid out in an orderly fashion in the soil before the man. Khan looked up from studying something wedged in between his fingers' grasp.

"There is no catastrophic damage to be found." There was no breath wasted on greetings or pleasantries to be found, either. "I have yet to determine the exact list of parts that require mending. Give me time and I shall have it fixed within a couple of days." However, the captain wasn't listening. His eyes quickly fell towards a patch of disturbed soil next to the pale figure and his heart skipped a beat.

"You moved." An eyebrow was twitched at this. "I said you _moved_," Jim repeated louder. "You were facing the other way last night. I can also see that your position has changed a little bit, and you're closer than before. What did you do?"

"Waiting would have been a waste of time," Khan replied matter-of-factly. "At the first sign of dawn I retrieved this out of your possession." He pulled out nonchalantly, to Jim's horror, the folded pocket knife in which had been confiscated earlier.

"You..." Jim paled at the thought of sleeping through what could have very possibly been his last moments. "You _stole_—"

Khan remained impassive and almost bored. "Do breathe, Captain. I have done nothing else."

"You could've fucking _killed_ me—" Jim struggled to keep himself in check, which was becoming more and more difficult as an irrationally great sense of fear trickled into his senses and settled heavily in his throat, adding to the already uncomfortable weight across his chest.

"But you are alive," came the stern reply. "Does that not speak for itself?"

"New rule." Though the pale face was kept calmly indifferent, Jim could feel the waves of exasperation rolling off of Khan's figure like melted butter. "You are _not_ to approach me in _any_ way without permission—"

"I believed we have already had this conversation. I must have been wrong."

"No, _shut up, _I'm warning you, if you even so much as _look_ at me in a way—"

"Kirk, I suggest you calm down and—" Their voices began to rise without even realizing.

"No, I am _not_ calming down, who the hell are you to tell _me_ to calm down—"

"You are not making a wise—"

"Lemme show you what is wise, by first teaching you to _stop sneaking up on people—"_

"Your heart rate is increasing, Kirk—"

"—and show some _respect _for my personal space—"

"—stop—"

"—is ridiculous—"

"—no, this is _dangerous—"_

"—_stuck with a homicidal maniac that steals your fucking knives in your sleep_—"

"_Mister Kirk, cease this at once!"_

Jim cut himself off abruptly, but to his alarm suddenly discovered that it was almost impossible to breathe. All previous thoughts of malice were gone in an instant. He choked and tensed, desperate to fill his lungs, but it was of no use. Jim crumpled uselessly to the ground, his entire body convulsing.

Khan hissed and dropped whatever he'd been holding, and leapt to his feet. When he began to move, Jim managed to gurgle out an incoherent warning noise to stop him. The man ignored him though, and was now hovering directly over the captain's line of sight. Jim thought he should be worried, but right now he couldn't think nor move no matter how hard he tried and stars quickly began to swim into view. Terror exploded inside him, and he began twitch and thrash wildly.

"Breathe, Kirk, you are have a panic attack." Somewhere above, Khan's steady tone drifted into existence. "It is heightened by the improper balance of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. _Breathe,_" came the commanding voice again. _I'm trying, you idiot! _His chest was squeezing in on itself, while simultaneously feeling like it threatened to burst any moment. His breaths were choked out in short, shallow gasps, toes and fingers curling in.

He thought he'd heard Khan's voice again, but he could no longer make out what was being said. Jim was vaguely aware of hands on his body, but blackness began to creep into his vision and hearing. It felt as if he were suspended in a void of nothingness. Another attempt to draw in air failed as the only thing that escaped his lips was nonsensical garble. He thought could actually feel his brain suffocating.

This was it, then. He was going to die.

He had failed his crew.

Far away, he could hear strange, jumbled noises.

And, almost as soon as it began, he could slowly start to feel the numbness washing away.

Light gradually flooded back into his vision and his ears seemed to pop open at once. He was back in the real world, and all five senses had returned. His airway was clear of any obstruction so Jim frantically sucked in a massive breath, his starved lungs greedily expanding. His throat was plunged into a searing agony as oxygen ripped itself roughly past the dry walls. He blinked away tears that had been squeezed out and forced himself to stop panting, focusing on inhaling through his nose. Jim spotted a blurry Khan kneeling next to him, one hand pressed flat over his chest and the other placed over his stomach.

"Your abdomen should rise further than your chest, Captain," Khan told him calmly. "Exhale through mouth only. Keep your eyes open. Do not speak."

Jim had a million things to say but this time he obeyed, going over the procedures he had learned back in Starfleet academy against hyperventilation. He moaned, feeling the blood rushing back to his brain rapidly. He twisted and flexed his fingers and toes, trying to regain some mobility. Slowly and steadily, he felt his heart beat returning to its normal pace, his muscles unclenching. After about five minutes, he could breathe normally again.

Khan removed his hands from Jim's body, leaning back with a murderous glower etched upon his face. "You _imbecile,"_ he snarled through gritted teeth. "Foolish, absolutely moronic!"

"Oh shut up," Jim groaned, trying to urge his pounding headache away. "And get away from me."

"Kirk, get it through that thick skull of yours that you nearly died," Khan said crossly.

"Yes, I realize that, thank you very much," Jim snapped, gripping his hair and rolling over so he wouldn't choke in case he vomited.

"You are not adapting well to the atmosphere, Kirk, and you let yourself become overstimulated. How daft could you possibly be?"

"Well _maybe_," Jim began indignantly, "if someone hadn't decided that it was a good idea to sneak up on a sleeping person to steal a _god damn knife—"_

"The foreign environment is causing your body to react to everything with overexerted caution. That is why you often feel heightened anxiety, and sometimes fear in response to the minor events that occur around you. Also, your obsessive paranoia of imminent death by my hands is not helping."

"_Fuck_ you, _you_ are _not helping!" _Jim roared, then immediately let out a dry sob as his head gave one particularly nasty throb. He dug his elbows into the soil, and waited until the pain gradually ebbed away before turning back. Khan was still kneeling where he was, regarding him with icy eyes. "You are not helping," he tried again, quieter this time. "You're telling me all these things, and even if you say you'll keep your distance you_ clearly_ broke my rule last night and that was the last straw."

"Your absurd way of attempting to deduce my intentions purely from a simple retrieving of a knife certainly shows extensive levels of mistrust, Kirk. Have you been severely deceived as a child?"

"It's not _simple_," Jim snapped back hotly, ignoring the jab at his childhood, "and it doesn't matter how many times you insist I'm the one who's crazy. You went for the knife and _you're_ the criminal. Naturally I'd put two and two together."

Khan tilted his head ever so slightly. "Does my presence disturb you, Captain?" he asked.

"_Yes_," said Jim, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Then that is your burden you've created for yourself. All your cognitive categories aside, there are no moral levels that split us apart here. If you persist on thinking so, then we shall get nowhere. " Instead of the anger Jim was expecting, there was only cold indifference in the words. "I made it very clear on numerous occasions that I have no intent to kill you. You are not the only one currently involved in this predicament and despite my superior qualities, if we are not discovered, then I am not much better off than you are, Mister Kirk."

"Now, look here," Jim interrupted irritably, "before you try and give me a lecture—"

"You are biologically inferior to me," Khan continued as if he hadn't been cut off at all, "yet I have chosen to withhold my previous hostilities for this cause. If you find that cooperating with me is difficult, then there is nothing I can do. You are a Captain of a ship, Kirk, so I shall readily accept your decisions without complaint. However, do not forget that I will also respond in kind to your actions should it seem like you are attempting to provoke ill-disposed quarrels."

Jim glared fiercely, feeling a flash of resentment. He could draw nothing from the blank expression, but that was to be expected. There was no sympathy coming from this man, yet right now Jim thought he could almost sense a sort of... acceptance? Relent? He could not put a finger on it, but there had definitely been sincerity in his tone. It provided no reassurance at all, because Jim knew that Khan could very well be as honest as he could and still end up twisting his words so that they satisfied his savage needs.

After the discovery of the other frozen men and women in those torpedoes, Jim had had a zillion questions. He had gone over to Khan's cell only to intercept him trying to escape with a portable beaming device. What had the man said on Kronos? _I surrender. _That had not looked very much like surrendering, after all. Jim could only guess that Khan had let himself get caught so he could use Jim's crew to free his men from the weapons, and after they had done so, no longer felt the need to linger. A man of his word, indeed, Jim thought sarcastically. He was a twisted, manipulative bastard.

Also, the thought of coming to any sort of agreement with the very person that assaulted a room full of Starfleet officers sent a shudder of disgust down his spine. His thoughts lingered momentarily on Christopher Pike, and his hollow, empty gaze staring up at a cracked and splintered ceiling while the windows exploded and shattered around them.

If it were any other situation, Jim would've laughed at what mostly seemed to resemble as a sort of peace offering—if you could call it that—from Khan. It would be temporary of course, but depending on their stay on this planet, the meaning could change. At this thought, a cold feeling of dread settled in him and nausea rolled throughout his system. The full realization of what would happen if they remained undiscovered and stranded forever hit him. The notion was horrifying. It would require him to do anything, even if it meant working with Khan, to make sure they were found. This should have been reason enough for him to make up his mind, yet he found himself hesitating in the moment of decision.

In the case of a rescue being impossible, then Jim could only imagine spending the rest of his living days with the very person who murdered the former Captain of the _Enterprise_, the only man who had believed in Jim when his life was plunged into a mess of alcohol and rebellion, someone who had been closest to the first fatherly figure he had ever had in his life.

He was not going to betray Pike like this, no matter how desperate the situation was. He'd figure something out. There had to be another way. There just had to. But for now, he didn't see much of a choice but to play along. Just enough to get him out of trouble.

* * *

~*o*~

* * *

"_Are you out of your data-screwing mind?"_

The deserted corridor held no one except for two figures dressed in blue uniforms bearing the familiar Starfleet insignia. Currently, one of them was leaning dangerously close into the other's personal space while fuming like a steamboat. There were no other watching eyes; they were alone, and clearly the man had decided to voice his thoughts while he could without an entire audience.

Spock merely raised an eyebrow at the particular choice of words. "Doctor McCoy, I fully understand your concern over the Captain's disappearance, and while I am doing everything I can in my power to re-establish our communications with—"

"No, you don't understand," growled McCoy tersely. "My god, man, do you even have any idea what is happening right now? Jim is out there, a million miles away for all we know, in the company of a _psychopathic superman _and all you're doing is sitting around quietly waiting to see if we can reach him through a communicator?"

"While I cannot ensure Captain Kirk's current location I have ordered the best members of our crew to oversee the search. As for your assumption, it is incorrect, by the fact that a portable transporter cannot possibly reach such distances unless—"

"You think this is just a game? Spock, he's stranded, he's stuck, and has no means of getting back and it's only a matter of time before Khan decides to finish him off! Hell, maybe they never made it to a safe destination, after all! Maybe they're floating around in space, their flesh having frozen and exploded while the pieces are scattered throughout the galaxy—"

"That is illogical, as devices such as these can only be directed at solid matt—"

"Shut up, I was trying to make a _point_—"

"Doctor McCoy, I suggest you take a deep breath—"

"No, don't tell me what to do, I'm a doctor, dammit—"

Suddenly, their heated fight was interrupted by a small beeping. Spock tore his gaze away from the furious man and flipped open his communicator. _"Engineering to Meester Spock! Are you awailable, sir?"_

"Mister Chekov," Spock replied. "Have you determined the destination that was submitted into the portable transwarp beaming device?"

"_I am sorry but I can't, sir!"_ came Chekov's frustrated voice. _"A self-destruction mode has been programmed and I cannot touch anything else, or there will be ze risk of detonation!"_

"Is there anything else you can acquire from observing the device alone?"

"_Err—_" There was a slight pause. "_Meester Scott told me zat when he designed these, sir, zey weren't made to send you wery far... I didn't even know it could take two people, sir. But wherever ze Keptin has gone, it can't be too far."_

"A valid point, Mister Chekov, and it shall be noted. However, you have said that Khan managed to alter the device to hold a self-destruction program. We must take in all possibilities and assume everything including the most improbable. There may be a chance that there had been modifications made to lengthen the maximum course distance."

"_A-aye, sir..."_

"Your cooperation is much appreciated. Please continue your analysis and alert me at once when there has been noticeable progress."

"_Yes, sir! Chekov out!"_

McCoy released a long-suffering sigh. "You're letting that kid deal with all this kind of stuff? I'm not saying I don't trust him but what if he messes something up by accident? We'll lose our only chance at rescuing Jim forever!"

"Mister Chekov is the only man familiar enough with the current technologies that Mister Scott has devised in order to analyze them correctly," Spock explained calmly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my duties on the bridge. In the meantime, perhaps it might help your path of distraction from your concerns by ensuring the holding cells are not contaminated by any outside debris upon Khan's arrival from Qo'noS. Maximum sanitation is crucial for the crew's health, as you should be aware."

"I'm a doctor, not your housekeeper," McCoy snapped back gruffly, but seemed to relent, albeit reluctantly. "God dammit, if we don't find Jim soon..."

"Your urgency is reciprocated by everyone else on this ship, Doctor," Spock told him quietly. "I am merely utilizing my current position to the best of my ability to navigate towards the wisest decision."

"Yeah, define 'wise'," McCoy growled, rolling his eyes. He turned away from the half-Vulcan. "Just get on with it."

* * *

~*o*~

* * *

"_Jesus!"_ Jim let out an undignified yelp as something screamed from overhead. He squinted up into the vast canopy, but couldn't see anything other than the thick shield of leaves that rustled violently before sitting still again. "_Mother_f—I'm not—" he quickly glanced down to where Khan had looked up to give him an inquiring glance from his spot, tinkering with the communicator that had now been completely split into a collection of even tinier pieces. "I'm not usually this jumpy," Jim explained hastily, although there was no real reason to. Well, it _was_ a matter of pride. The abrupt cries of whatever beasts that resided in this forest constantly put him on edge, and it annoyed him to no end that he seemed to be the only one to be affected by them. He wasn't a coward, but hell, any sane man would be afraid of being in a completely new environment with absolutely no information to go on. There also must be something in the air as well. Khan himself had said that it was normal for him to feel more anxious.

Said man had wordlessly returned to sifting through the miniscule metal particles he had gathered in his palm.

They had not left the clearing. Jim was left to wander about the place, going as far as he could without actually leaving their temporary shelter area. For a while, he'd taken to sharpening fallen branches with the pocket knife he had snatched from Khan's side. The latter hadn't objected—he didn't even acknowledge the fact that Jim was near—and so they left it at that. Jim discovered that the knife wasn't only consisted of a blade, but he pulled out numerous other hinges that swung out to reveal a needle, a miniature pair of scissors, a screwdriver, a scalpel, and—Jim coughed to conceal his laugh—a nail clipper.

After throwing another sharpened stake onto his growing pile of useless branches, Jim stood up and looked down at himself, only to scowl in disgust. His yellow uniform was caked in dried mud and was crumbling off every time he moved. His sleeves were tattered at the edges, and his trousers were no better off. He felt grimy and just overall... yucky, and itched for a shower. He noted Khan's barely soiled appearance with a small flash of jealousy.

"Are you even trying to fix the damn thing?" Jim snapped, perhaps a little too harshly out of spite. It had to have been over an hour since Jim's embarrassing panic attack, and Khan hadn't spoken once ever since.

Neither did he now, even when prompted. He continued to disregard Jim as if the captain wasn't even there.

"Look, I hope you're not making it into a bomb or anything, because—gah, _fuck!" _Jim jumped a foot in the air as something snapped, like a taut rubber band, and suddenly he was being pelted with dozens of hard pellets that poured on him like a gravel shower. They popped open once they hit the ground, and tiny, green seedlings immediately began to shoot out of the soil like small tentacles. Jim swore again and threw himself out of the way, almost landing right into Khan's neatly lain out parts of the communicator.

"Watch yourself, Captain, I will not tolerate you ruining the functional sections of this device."

"Who's tolerating who here?" Jim shot back angrily. "I was just attacked by a tree!"

"It was releasing its protected embryos after a period of incubation," said Khan. "Hardly a subject worth fussing over."

Just then, Jim's stomach gave a particularly loud growl that rumbled through his entire system, and felt his face grow hot under Khan's steady gaze. Grimacing, he finally remembered that he hadn't eaten anything since the measly dinner he managed to force down after the man's first capture. Now that his body had a chance to catch up on its usual functions, he realized he was starving so bad it hurt.

"What?" he snapped when Khan didn't stop staring. Jim hated it when he did that. It felt as if he were being observed, dissected, and analyzed under a microscope. "Is being hungry too _low _for your superior lifestyle?" He really needed to stop making snarky remarks, but right now he couldn't help it. It was a defence mechanism.

"Though it may provide some peace on my part, I'd prefer if you did not starve yourself," Khan said.

"Yeah. Great." Jim couldn't wait any longer, and he felt as if his insides were chewing away at each other. He didn't want to leave Khan out of his sight, but by the looks of it, it didn't seem like the man was going anywhere, going by his stiff posture he'd been maintaining since forever. Jim secretly hoped his back would hurt later. "I need to eat something _now._ Don't you dare try anything while I'm gone."

"As you wish."

Jim lingered his gaze suspiciously for a moment longer, but couldn't keep it for long. He tore away and headed into the thicker woods.

It was considerably hotter in these parts of the forest, mainly because of the humidity that apparently fluctuated throughout various parts of the atmosphere. Jim always walked, taking care of each and every step. Every now and then he passed by tiny streams that looked just like the one he had nearly drowned himself in—if that was possible—yesterday, and he so desperately wanted to wet his raw throat. But he didn't want to risk anything as of now, especially since he was alone and didn't have Khan to pull him back to his senses in case he got carried away.

Whoa, he thought abruptly, making him pause in his steps. He did not just think that. He was perfectly fine by himself, and didn't need anyone to help him. After all, he was the top student from the Starfleet academy and he prided himself in knowing many survival tactics and had been, naturally, one of the brightest in his classes. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Yeah right, a small voice in the back of his head scoffed. Survival methods or not, he wasn't left with much options when everything around him could potentially kill him. And when even the water wasn't safe, well, Jim didn't really feel like trying anything else. Several strategies his brain automatically came up with were tossed away.

But, oh god, the hunger... gritting his teeth from the increasing rolls of pain, Jim pressed onwards. Anything would do. If he didn't find something, the tree leaves would work as well. After a while of searching the ground for any small creatures that might be lurking, all he came up with was hands and knees covered in fresh muck. Leaves it was, then.

Jim picked out a tree that didn't look like it would kill him the moment he looked at it wrong or something (some of them did look very fierce, with white bark that oozed blackened sap), and tore at its low branches. He briefly considered taking it back to Khan for an assessment, but pushed the thought back when his stomach screamed to be fed. He stuck the green, velvety piece into his mouth cautiously.

It tasted rather bitter, but there was a slight sweet edge near the end as well. Jim didn't waste any more time and began stuffing his face furiously. His hands were quickly stained with green and his throat painfully contracted from the rough workout. Only when he had scraped the branch clean from leaves did he stop to take deep breaths, feeling sort of queasy but nevertheless better than starving. He reached out for more.

While he respected others' choices, Jim could never fully imagine himself living on a limited diet. Back on the ship, Spock had always kept away from the meat as a vegetarian. Jim had tried to restrict himself as well, but it hadn't lasted long. He never took a liking to vegetables, anyway. But now here he was, shoving them into his mouth as if his life depended on it. And quite frankly, it did. Remembering his first officer, Jim felt his heart ache a little. No doubt Spock would be running around the _Enterprise _searching for him. And knowing that there was little hope of reaching the ship from here, Jim could only pray for Spock to figure out a way to rescue them.

Swallowing his last mouthful, Jim frowned at his pessimistic thoughts. They'd only just got stranded, and here he was already acting as if they'd been lost for weeks. Of course Spock will find them, if they didn't manage to contact the ship first. Jim knew he trusted his first officer completely, and it would do no good if he began to lose that faith.

Now that he was feeling a little better, he slowed down on his excessive leaf-binging, until he could no longer take any more. Straightening up, Jim slowly turned back the way he had come, a determined look settling upon his features. Maybe he would even try to help fix the communicator, or do at least something to quicken their rescue date. Because after all, there _had_ to be _something_ he could do. All the while, he kept running his tongue over his teeth, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste that seemed to settle permanently in his mouth. His throat still protested for water, but he could hold it out for a bit more. At least he now had a full stomach. He began to see the familiar surroundings in which his clearing was enclosed in. Obviously he hadn't gone much further than he had originally thought he had. Five minutes? Give or take a few, Jim thought vaguely. Did time run faster or slower here? Would it be any different back on the _Enterprise?_

The firm demeanor he had held upon his features vanished like the wind as soon as he stepped into the clearing.

To Jim's dismay, the area consisted of the new seedlings that had already grown up to half of his own height, shivering gently as it continued to sprout higher. Otherwise, it was empty. Khan was nowhere to be seen. The dissected communicator bits had been swept up without a trace. The silence was eerily disconcerting.

Jim really should've known. He had seen this coming for as long as he could remember being on this cursed planet. This should not surprise him. It had only been a matter of time. _Did you really think he'd do as he said he would? _But even despite telling himself all this, he couldn't help but feel the outrage, the betrayal, and worst of all, the ever-growing tickle of dread that Khan had finally given up lying to him and decided he would slaughter Jim caught off guard, any time of the day. Obviously Jim would be more careful from now on, and watch his back all the time. _That does not help anything, _a voice retorted disdainfully. _You_ _know he can get to you even if you're surrounded by brick walls. _

He refused to panic, and he refused to despair. Ignoring his pounding heart, Jim felt around in his pockets. Good, he still had the pocket knife. He allowed himself to relax a bit.

Somewhere deep down, Jim was almost certain that Khan possessed enough strength to crush bone with his bare hands.

It had been a lonely battle from the start, and the only difference now was that it was visible. All previous thoughts of determination were forgotten. Jim took a deep breath, and sat down under the roots where he had spent the night. He had three options. One, he could go and start looking for Khan. Preposterous, he scolded himself, for Khan would never be found if he intended to hide. Two, he could go off on his own, look for more food and shelter, and try to see if there is any intelligent life he could negotiate with. Very unlikely, and even if he found anyone he'd still have to try and explain himself in a language they didn't understand, why he wasn't invading but actually stranded on their home. And three, he could just sit here patiently and wait, for a ship to discover him and pick him up, or for Khan to bring him to his eventual death.

Though he knew he would be admonished by many of his friends back on the _Enterprise_ for thinking this, Jim saw the last option to be the most agreeable in his state. Was it the atmosphere's fault again? It seemed to drain all of his inner strength and motivation as well as the physical energy in his muscles.

After all, he needed the time to think, anyway.

He thought about climbing a suitable tree to assess his surroundings, but immediately pushed away that idea. There was no way he would force his body into any more strain than necessary. He did not want to have another seizure especially since he was alone. Plus, there might be even less breathable air up there. Another thing that was now quite obvious was the lack of beasts or other creatures that one would expect to see in a lush forest. They had apparently realized the danger of the lower grounds, the fatally alluring quality of water. All animals must have adapted to the higher altitudes, never straying from the thick canopies overhead. Jim would be climbing right into their nests.

He hated feeling so useless. No matter how much he tried to reassure himself that he wasn't, that he could still survive, the horrible sensation of being trapped never left him. He missed his ship and his crew so badly it left an aching longing in his heart. He was a proud Captain, and the fact that he was now reduced to this helpless little soul had wounded his spirit deeply. Every muscle in his body seemed to want to jump into action, to do everything he could do in his power to fight, to get rescued. Even if he died while trying.

But however desperate he might be, Jim was never a fool. He knew very well that throwing a tantrum was pointless. He knew that whatever he did now, however valiant and smart it felt like, would be of no use and only shortened his chance of holding out long enough. There was the communicator, but even in the small likeliness of it being successfully repaired, most of the task was still left to the _Enterprise_. It was up to Spock to find him now. Jim would normally hate to place such a huge responsibility on his first officer again, not after the volcano incident. But right now, he had no choice. It was that or die a lonely death on a planet he didn't even know the name of.

Jim was forcibly thrown out of his deep reflections when a sharp, strange sound, one that he couldn't accurately place a finger on, resonated throughout the air. It wasn't like the first loud noise he'd heard when Khan had crash-landed. This one was almost as if...

He cautiously stood up, and looked around warily. Nothing seemed to be out of place, not any more than usual. Jim peered into the thick growth, trying to see beyond the vast pillars of green, brown, and white. Nothing but silence.

And just as suddenly as one could ever imagine, the peace was brutally ripped apart by an ear-splitting _crash. _The entire ground seemed to quake under Jim's feet and the massive trunks that had stood tall and erect splintered into dozens of wooden bones which exploded in every direction, the huge stakes embedding itself into the soft soil. Jim let out a petrified shout and dived out of the way as one tree creaked and moaned, before slowly bowing over as it fell to its demise. Then the ground did shake a bit as the collision sent small shivers through the swampy undergrowth.

It didn't stop there. Jim saw that a couple of other trees around him were beginning to crack and split at the roots. He was stunned, frozen, fixed to his point as they seemed to tilt ever so slightly in his direction. What was going on? The captain had no time to think, and a large shadow closed in over him. Looking up, Jim felt his blood run cold. _Run._

The giant wood missed crushing him by mere inches as Jim dashed out of the clearing. There was a steady rumbling and moaning as nearby trees seemed to get destroyed by his mere presence. Bewildered, stunned, and terrified, Jim wrenched himself away and begin to scramble away. If he just kept going, then hopefully he'll outrun the entire demolished area in time. Jim sucked in deep, slow breaths, keeping a steady, jogging pace and willing himself not to panic. Every once in a while he stumbled as the ground trembled beneath him. He didn't dare to glance back, not when the threatening groans got louder and more frequent. He needed to pick up the pace, just a bit, he was going to get flattened—

Jim skidded to a halt, and his heart seemed to stop and jump simultaneously into his throat. Up ahead, another tree was tipping over, its roots snapping, colliding with its neighbour in the process. He looked back, and then front again. He was being closed in. Jim had never known that wood breaking could be so loud. His ears were ringing with the ominous creaks.

Somewhere far away, he thought he could hear a faint shouting. A noise, other than the feral grumbling that would bring him to his eventual annihilation. Jim blinked slowly, not comprehending. He was paralyzed, unable to think. In the corner of his eye, something dark, contrasting against the soft greens and yellows of the forest, was bounding towards him at an incredible speed.

A particularly loud _crack _resounded above his head, and suddenly he felt a heavy object barreling right into his abdomen. The force sent them both reeling backwards, knocking the wind out of Jim in the process. They landed painfully in a bush of prickly vines which clawed and Jim's skin, making him bleed. His head had hit something hard, and colors burst into his vision, half-blinding him. Ahead, he could barely make out the splintered portion of wood that had dug itself deeply into the ground where Jim had been standing a few seconds ago.

His muddled view was suddenly filled with a familiar face that was glowing with such ferocity that Jim was thrown into a confused awe. A succession of quick slaps across both cheeks managed to focus his eyes a bit clearer.

"Snap out of it, Kirk!" Khan was bellowing into his face over the ever-growing roar of the falling trees. "Pull yourself together!"

Jim blinked again, trying to say something, but his brain had switched into 'blend' mode. He was feeling rather groggy. He felt his eyelids slip, and tried to squirm out of Khan's painful grip that was digging into his arms.

"No!" Another slap, harder this time. "You cannot fall asleep. You will put yourself into a coma!" The captain felt harsh tugging on his body as he was attempted to be pulled into a sitting position. "We need to get out of here. Kirk, are you listening to me?"

Jim huffed in annoyance and pulled away, not noticing in his delirium that Khan's face was littered in small bruises and cuts, some of which were bleeding. He didn't catch the urgency in the voice that was still shouting at him, and instead focused on his own, throbbing head. Something warm was trickling down his face and nose. What was it? Jim raised his hand and touched the wet substance and tasted it. It wasn't water, it tasted like iron. He felt a breeze of disappointment run through his system. He was really thirsty...

The ongoing chaos around him didn't even register in him anymore. He didn't notice the pair of arms closing around his body to lift him up into the air, the vines tearing at his face; he didn't even see how the world suddenly flipped upside down and he was hanging limply like a lifeless doll because he had already closed his eyes. In fact, he didn't understand anything. He just simply shut it all out, too confused to try and understand what was going on, and finally succumbed to the beckoning darkness.

* * *

**I don't want this story to turn into a zillion chapter fic, so I am trying to fit as much as I can into one chapter without making it seem too long to bear.** **And it seems Khan has come to Jim's rescue once again! Will this be enough to convince Jim that Khan really isn't going to hurt him?** **Is Khan really going to stay true to his word? Will they ever trust each other enough? ;OO So many questions. To be continued...**

**Like? Love? Hate? Please tell me what you think; your reviews will be greatly appreciated! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow, so this chapter was literally supposed to be posted like 2 weeks ago, but then I got to school and I got pelted with homework on the first day and the days after! The consequences of taking all academic courses. x_x Every day I come home and as soon as I arrive at my house I sit at my desk and do homework until like 10pm, with little 5 min breaks in between for food.** **Try adding scholarship applications to all that. So I haven't been able to sit in front of my laptop let alone open up Word and write/edit. Can you believe despite all the studying, I still manage to almost fail 3 of my maths quizzes? It's either I'm really stupid, or the teacher really sucks. Or perhaps both. T_T**

**Anyways, enough of me ranting about my personal life. Though it's written rather hastily, here is the chapter you've all been so kindly waiting for. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Lights flashed before his eyes, the sound of screams and dying cries filling the room. Glass flew in every direction, and he could make out a flurry of movements as people attempted to flee for safety. Jim watched as the hovercraft jerked uncontrollably and began its uneven descent, black smoke rising out of its rear. Through the foggy glass, Jim saw a man sitting in the cockpit. His features were set in impassive stiffness, as the beginnings of a typical dematerialization began to glow around his body. For a split second, their eyes met, and there he was trapped by two orbs of icy glaciers, a pair of frigid, merciless crystals that sent chills running down his spine. _

_The hovercraft suddenly burst into a dozen tiny pieces, the explosion illuminating the black sky with brilliant streaks of orange and yellow fireworks._

With a startled gasp, Jim jerked awake. The horrible screams faded away into the gentle sigh of the leaves that shaded him quite serenely over his head. A choked sigh escaped his blood-crusted lips. It had been a dream. He definitely had not wanted to relive that moment again, and was grateful that he did not see Pike's body like in his other nightmares. He frowned a little when he remembered the last bit; the hovercraft hadn't really exploded, had it? _Oh god; _his head suddenly burst into a huge blossom of pain _(again)_ and his hand automatically went shooting up to hold it.

"Do not touch the wound." Jim's gaze darted over to his side where he lay, and spotted Khan sitting calmly on a fallen, splintered log. The captain froze when his sight rested on the man's face. _Those eyes... _Images of his dreams flashed back and he grunted, trying to shake off the memory, instead focusing on feeling his heartbeat reverberate inside his skull.

"Refrain yourself from sudden movements, Kirk," Khan said when blinding agony burst in his temple once more after he'd twisted his neck too quickly. "You managed to hit your head rather hard."

"What—" Jim squeezed his eyes shut and then blinked, sucking in air noisily as his head continued to pound. "What happened—?" He wouldn't have been surprised if he turned out to have lost more than half of his brain cells at the end of all this.

"Collision with a tree," Khan explained steadily. "A minor concussion and several abrasions in different places. No fractures or any other injuries requiring immediate professional medical supervision. Consider yourself lucky," he added dryly.

That was right; the full weight of what happened hit Jim like a tidal wave and he let out a shuddering breath, the world suddenly spinning before him. Memories were still a bit hazy, but he could definitely remember the fear which felt as fresh as ever. With much difficulty, Jim tried to maneuver around into a sitting position. After several attempts, he managed to prop himself up against a tree, breathing heavily. How many times had he suffered these damned headaches now?

None of them spoke for several minutes, Jim trying to make coherent thoughts through the constant throbbing of his head injury while Khan watched him like a hawk carved out of stone. It was only when the captain could almost feel the burning gaze searing a hole right through his already tattered uniform—it was torn in small rips, and droplets of blood littered the fabric thanks to those cursed vines—that he decided he could take the silence no longer.

"How long was I out for?" Jim asked wearily, carefully watching the man's face for any signs of deception.

The reply was instantaneous. "One hour and twenty seven minutes."

"What _was_ that?" He gestured behind him, in the general direction of where he thought they might have come from. "Back there, the trees... they were exploding, or something..." Images seemed fuzzy and undefined when he tried to recall them, but he definitely remembered the sinister creaks and moans. Speaking of which, Jim could no longer hear them. It was as if the entire event hadn't occurred at all.

Only, it had. Jim turned his head around to observe his surroundings, and saw bits and pieces of wood scattered throughout the undergrowth, and around where he lay.

"I—" Khan had only hesitated for a fraction of a nanosecond, but Jim still caught it. "The reason behind the destruction is unclear."

"Well I don't know about you, but I have a feeling that it was trying to get me," Jim muttered darkly. His temple gave a twinge when he gingerly pressed his fingers to the wound. To his surprise, though, it had stopped bleeding and was already closed halfway up. "Hey, I didn't know I could heal this fast," he said mostly to himself, chuckling. "Bones would think he'd lose his job if I told him."

"That was a last minute act on my part," Khan retorted. "Once I reached a minimum safe distance, the destruction ceased almost immediately. However, I let you ingest some of my blood which would ensure a faster recovery. Not as effective as direct injection, of course, but still better than nothing."

"You—you gave me your blood?" Jim spluttered, jaw gaping with disbelief.

"It was a simple precaution," Khan shot back, almost defensively.

"But... _why?"_ Jim's headache faded into the background as he tried to digest this new information. "In fact, why did you save me?" Suddenly, his mind was sent back to the point in chaos where Jim felt something collide against him, and realized with a funny jolt that it had been _Khan _who had pushed him away, out of danger of the falling debris. Khan who had disappeared without warning when Jim had been away, who Jim had thought he'd been betrayed by like he'd always expected.

"Are you suggesting that I should have let you bleed to death?" Khan asked crossly, frowning.

"You, actually..." Now that he was fully conscious and (somewhat) functional again, Jim was suddenly aware of many things other than the obvious fact that he'd just got his ass saved by a homicidal criminal. One of them included how Khan was sitting exactly five feet away from where Jim was. Also, he realized that the left sleeve of the man's black uniform was torn, gone up to the middle of his forearm, the loose strings hanging limply around the ruined cloth. When he searched for the missing sleeve, Jim discovered the piece of fabric bandaged expertly around his own arm, knotted tightly but not uncomfortably to staunch the bleeding of whatever wound had been there. His jaw dropped even further.

"A rather impressive impersonation of a trout, Kirk. Tell me, are you experiencing any alarming levels of dizziness, nausea, or fatigue?" Khan's tone, unlike his words, were not condescending.

"Er—" Jim continued to gawp, the words having fled from his mouth. The ability to think seemed to have escaped him for good.

"Eloquent as always." Khan's lips twitched with something akin to irritation. "Very well, Captain. I will assume you are well enough to tend to your own self." He made to get up.

"No! Wait." Jim quickly shot out his hand as if to stop him, then abruptly pulled it back when he realized what he had done. Khan was now looking at him expectantly. _Great._ What had he wanted to say in the first place? "Er, what were _you_ doing?" _Amazing, Jim. _He kicked himself internally. _Amazing impression of a dunce. _

"I was 'doing' a number of things, Captain," Khan replied disapprovingly. "Be more specific."

Jim desperately raked through his brain, trying to bring forth a coherent thought. Everything he had previously wanted to ask had vanished from his mind, leaving only a hollow emptiness. _Think_. He had gone out to find food, and when he came back... He frowned. There was nothing there. But if it wasn't because Khan had decided to run away, then why...?

Good, there was that question. "Why were you gone when I returned to the clearing?"

"Ah." The standing figure paused for a moment. "That was... unplanned."

_Got you. _Jim crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Indeed."

"Jesus, you're almost as bad as Spock," Jim muttered, exasperated. "That was the cue for you to, oh I don't know, _explain?"_

Khan shot him a sour glare, lips thinning down to almost nothing. Jim glowered back as best as he could until the man eventually seemed to relent.

"After your departure, I noticed something amiss. There was a disturbance in the atmosphere. I was unable to determine the exact cause of this_._ I relocated myself to a different area for safety measures." With this, he seemed to dismiss the entire subject altogether.

Jim was not about to let him do that. "What? What was it?" he pressed. "What kind of disturbance?"

"It is not something neither you nor I should express concern over," Khan began, but Jim cut him off.

"Cut the bullshit. We both know you wouldn't just go and hide from something if you knew it wouldn't be a threat, unless you had something else up your sleeve." Jim pointed a finger at the man, who eyed it distastefully. "Tell me right now what you saw, that is an _order._"

"If you must know," Khan drawled, "I somehow managed to pick up a scent that closely resembled exhaust fumes which seemingly materialized out of nowhere—_however_ this is irrelevant because it can be completely natural for certain chemical secretions of the vegetation around us to react in such a way that—"

"No, no, stop," Jim interrupted again, staring as if he'd just noticed Khan for the first time. "You're saying that it was exhaust, as in _shuttlecraft _exhaust? _A ship?"_

"You heard me, Kirk, but consider the facts and how ridiculous the n—"

"You mean there was a ship?" Jim ogled at him, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. "There was a _starship_ and you _ran away? _Why—why the _hell _didn't you call for help!?" His voice rang out particularly loudly in the almost unnatural silence the jungle was currently providing them with. If they had missed their one chance of being rescued, oh god, _oh god..._ Jim wasn't sure what he'll want to do first: throw himself into a blazing fire or strangle the living breath out of Khan.

"If it was a ship, then I would have seen or heard it," Khan argued adamantly. "There was nothing of the sort. Only a mere disturbance."

"Well then it must've been cloaked!" Jim cried furiously. "Of course you wouldn't have seen it!"

"Mister Kirk, your desperation is overriding all logic you are capable of. If it were an enemy, then running was the right thing to do. If it truly were a ship that planned to rescue us, why would they cloak themselves, instead of doing everything they can to seize our attention?" Without waiting for an answer, Khan went on, squaring his shoulders and looking down at the captain darkly. "Furthermore, there is no valid evidence that it had been one in the first place. A trick of the mind, perhaps."

Jim couldn't help but spit out a loud guffaw that was completely devoid of humor. _"You?_ A _trick_ of the _mind?"_

"I fail to understand your point," Khan began but Jim interrupted him again with another staccato burst of laughter.

"No, I think you understand my point more than anything else. And, I also think you understand the fact that what you just said was the most ridiculous, dumbest thing I've ever heard you say." Still overwhelmed with shock and disbelief, Jim screwed up his face, throwing his hands up. "Just what sort of disturbance was it so that it turned you into spewing out the crappiest excuses I didn't even think you were capable of?"

"Make what you will out of it; I will not assuage your nonsensical fantasies by exaggerating the truth," growled Khan, his eyes flashing. "I am not here to provide you with the comforts of home, Kirk, but if you so wish for it, do use your imagination to fulfill whatever your desultory mind desperately craves!"

"_Wait a minute,"_ Jim exploded, heat rising to his face as his blood pressure skyrocketed. He abruptly sat up straighter to lean accusingly towards the man. "You watch what you're saying, Harrison, I'm a god damn Captain—"

"Furthermore, I will not tolerate you abusing your superior position that holds absolutely no value in our current situation so do not try to indulge yourself with Captain privileges like you normally would, _Captain. _They are of no use here, like you."

"Y—you little—" Jim, who was gaping with pure rage, could not believe his ears. "_Son of a—"_

"Shall I present my face to you, Mister Kirk?" Khan sneered. "That way, you'd have a better chance of hitting me at all."

Jim saw murderous red; he made a frantic move to leap to his feet, and would've howled back a furious reply, but Khan had barely finished speaking when his blasted temple erupted into a massive supernova of agony that ripped its way through his very bones. Jim cried out in shock and flipped over just in time as a roll of nausea left him retching, and he vomited violently onto the tree roots. A series of coughs wracked his body as his futile attempts to keep the contents of his stomach down were rendered useless. His arms were shaking so badly he wouldn't be able to hold himself up for long; grunting, he tried to push himself away. It was of no use, he was going to fall face-first in a puddle of his own sick and—

Something caught his shoulders just as his limbs collapsed under his quavering weight and rolled him over so that he was on all fours, the ground free of any forcibly expulsed fluids. He tried to turn his head, but one hand jerked his face back so he was facing forwards again. Panting, Jim furiously tried to stop trembling, but the rough handling of his skull jostled his brain and painful stars burst into his vision. He retched again, throat searing and lungs burning.

All previous arguments and insults that made Jim's blood boil were instantly emulsified in a pool of his own self-loathing. An abrupt tidal wave of pure misery washed over Jim and he moaned pathetically, not caring who heard because he was sick and hurt and by Gods it_ hurt_, damn it.

Just then, the same hand that manhandled his head was patting his back with surprisingly gentle slaps, and the ministrations gradually helped settle his churning belly. To his immense gratitude, this round of torturous sickness seemed to diminish much more quickly than before. Jim spat a few times and sloppily wiped his mouth on a handful of moss he ripped out, crumbling onto his side as he leaned heavily on whatever he could reach. Was it because he'd ingested Khan's blood? His dulled senses from the vomiting seemed to regenerate much faster with more clarity, and Jim found that he could breathe with much more ease than he'd expected, even with Khan squatting just mere inches away.

Lifting his eyes up to the man, he saw that the previous anger had also dissipated from the steely gaze with no trace, leaving a calculating but neutral demeanor which seemed to be Khan's default mode. In Jim's dazed state, it was strangely soothing. The pounding of his head receded once more. The captain tried to remember what he had been about to say before this. He was left with nothing.

"You seem to be rather close," Jim croaked out hoarsely, at a loss for other words. The thick silence as they stared at each other was becoming somewhat tense.

"You don't seem to rather mind," Khan replied back, and Jim frowned. Was that the man's attempt at humor? Well, it must not have been, because Khan did not smile and Jim did not laugh. He took another moment or two to gather himself, and then the captain shuffled into a better sitting position, inhaling deeply. He cleared his throat.

"I don't want that happening again." The slight tremor in his voice only added to his humiliation.

"Nor do I. You have been calling for an unnecessarily high maintenance ever since we arrived, Mister Kirk."

"It's not my fault my body is messing itself up. I don't think I've ever had this many health problems in my life."

"Noted. Though there are many environmental drawbacks, I predict that there are a number of psychological factors that are contributing as well. However, it seems my enhanced cells are improving your recovery rate at a much more satisfactory pace."

"Yes, speaking of which, don't pretend you've stopped your 'I'm-better-than-everyone-else-and-Kirk-can't-do-s hit-about-it' attitude. So you were calling me useless a couple of minutes ago."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm going to ignore everything you've said in the past five minutes—" Khan's face instantaneously dropped back into a bitter scowl, "—and continue from the part where you've just finished telling me about the disturbance. So keep going, tell me why you ran away." Deep down, he knew he'd already lost the argument. It did nothing however, to ease the silent resentment that was already beginning to bubble under the forced lid again.

"You are truly the very epitome of obstinacy, Kirk. What have I done to plant such an obsession for questioning my morals of safety?"

"You wouldn't fall for something as simple as a 'trick of the mind'," Jim muttered indignantly. He was absentmindedly aware of the bitter taste of bile that stubbornly remained in the back of his throat. _Water..._

"I see you have placed a remarkably formidable amount of faith in the accuracy of my abilities," Khan said, and one could detect a distinct air of sarcasm in his voice. "However, let me remind you that I am still human."

"You?" Jim snorted. "No."

"Oh, but I am."

"Alright then, Mister _Not-so-flawless, _why do _you_ think they would go through such measures to hide?" Jim asked venomously. "Do you think it could be from this planet?"

"I cannot be certain, but my estimations lead me to believe that there are no intelligent life forms here as of now. Surely in the presence of a technologically advanced species this forest would have been manipulated to better suit one's needs."

"Then I can't think of anything else other than us," Jim said. "But that doesn't make sense, because why would they try to hide if they were trying to rescue us?"

"Though more likely, it is still improbable. As of now there are no known Starfleet space crafts that have successfully mastered this level of advanced cloaking."

"Then _what was—"_

"I told you, Kirk. A trick of the mind."

Jim sighed harshly, but gave up on the matter. He didn't actually believe Khan, but as of now there really was no other evidence besides the man's words and quite frankly Jim was still hesitant to believe it. Was he trying to mess with him somehow? But even Khan himself seemed unsure, and when someone like him is uncertain, then there was either something very wrong, or it really had been nothing after all.

Though in all honesty, Jim was determined not to let it go completely. First of all, if Khan really thought that it had been a trick of the mind, why would he tell Jim? Surely it wasn't out of compassion. The man would never admit to his flaws to anyone, so that only left out a couple of options. Was he tricking him, trying to befuddle his mind, to disorient him? _Or..._ Jim's brain considered the small chance that maybe Khan was actually worried about something, and decided to confide in the captain on the matter. Well, that was _preposterous._ He really must've hit his head pretty hard.

"Alright then," Jim said, rubbing his hands over his eyes haggardly. "If you're just going to sit there forever, you might as well keep fixing that communicator." He made a note to himself to never get into an argument with this man again, especially after mere minutes of waking up from a concussion and puking his guts out. "And when you're done, we're getting the hell out of this place."

"If you escape the confinements of the forest, then there is no guaranteed safety," Khan said warningly.

"Yes, I know that I might suffocate if I freak out too much," Jim snapped, "but is there any guaranteed safety in _here? _I don't know if you've noticed, but back then I almost got killed by a _tree. _If that isn't what you'd classify as dangerous, then you've got some serious priority issues—"

"The previous incident is unexplainable, but these trees will provide more seclusion and we will be veiled from any undesirable views than anywhere else," Khan cut in. "Besides, you will only increase your risk of exposing yourself to harmful radiation."

"You know," Jim said, squinting at Khan in a mock-thoughtful expression. "I always thought you as this raging, psychotic criminal. But I see now that I was wrong. You're actually a pretty nice guy."

"You mistake my warnings as kindness, but I ensure you that—"

"A real, cozy guy with a _big,_ warm heart—"

"Kirk—"

"—always looking out for his friends—"

"Mister K—"

"—making sure they don't die of radiation poisoning or giant homicidal trees—"

Fingers abruptly curled into Jim's uniform and yanked him up, startling him. The vice-like grip dug painfully into his skin, and Jim found himself staring cross-eyed at the bright, livid face, their noses almost touching. He blinked, pressing back as much as he could to regain some personal space.

"Or what, _Captain,_" Khan hissed, "would you rather have me kill you here and now?"

He guessed that even augmented people with genetic enhancements had limits to keeping their cool. "If you're expecting me to thank you, then I wouldn't get your hopes too high," Jim stated flatly.

"Your assumption that I care for simple sentimentalities insults me," Khan spat, the lines on his face hardening.

"Yeah, and I'm sure you put all those people in the fucking torpedoes because _you felt like it_, so stop complaining—"

"While I do not complain like you, my continued efforts to drag you out of danger are becoming somewhat repetitive so I feel like I have earned the right to do so while _you, _Kirk, have done _nothing."_

"Enlighten me," Jim breathed challengingly.

"Must I?" Khan's reptilian eyes were ablaze with crazed delight. "Is there any point? You have demonstrated to me plenty of times that words have no effect on you. You don't take them seriously, do you, Captain? You don't listen to anyone, not your superiors, not even your friends...

"When you arrived at Kronos saving my life was never part of the initial plan, was it? Oh, it wasn't," Khan said, grinning. "You were _sent_ to kill me, Mister Kirk. You have a conscience, yes, but it is buried under your hidden nature to rebel. Ahh, yes, I see. Always the brave soldier, a hero of Starfleet, the _mighty Captain_. Can't live without the risk, can you? After all, humans are a wild species, unable to be tamed. You think you're so courageous, that you're so _above _everyone else, using dumb luck to justify your playing God...

"Everything I said to you on this planet since the beginning, you never really listened. You _never_ listen to anyone but yourself, Kirk. This is your fatal flaw."

Jim clenched his teeth and stared defiantly, repeating to himself _he is just trying to manipulate you, don't listen to him_. But deep down something cracked at those words. He vaguely found himself back in Pike's office, where the Admiral had said something extremely similar, but had spoken with disappointment and anger, not out of hateful contempt and mockery. No matter how he looked at it, in one way or another, Khan was right. A lot had happened in a short amount of time, and while Jim hadn't intended to laze about, he had never really put any of his passing thoughts into action, only doing what _he_ thought was necessary.

What had he become? Were it any other situation, would he have done the same thing? Would he have sat quietly through the chaos in despair, doing nothing to change the fact? When Spock was in the volcano? No. He had gone back for his first officer, even if it had meant violating the Prime Directive. He had done everything he could. When facing the threats of Nero? First of all, that was a completely different situation. What would he call this, then? A crisis? Obviously. Dangerous? Yes. Was his life on the line? Jim wasn't even sure of what that meant anymore.

All this time Jim had been certain he was walking along the fine boundaries of life and death just by merely being around the presence of Khan. While he initially panicked at the notion of being stranded in the middle of space, in the end he'd focused more on what he could see right in front of him. Short term reliefs over long term gratitude. It must be the primal survival instincts because Jim had never felt so lost and confused with himself. Ever since joining Starfleet, he'd taken basic needs for granted. After all, there were so many other things he needed to worry about. But now, here, in such a foreign setting reduced back to the barbaric stages of early human life, Jim wasn't even sure if he was doing the right thing anymore. Worst of all, he was beginning to question his own doubt for this war criminal he had held as his own prisoner in his ship.

"You are not the man you were when you had decided to beat me back on Kronos, Mister Kirk. What will you do now? How will you prove that you are still the same man with the same conscience, instead of pathetically whimpering on the ground like a coward?"

This man, John Harrison, or Khan, had done many things, and was capable of so much more. Surely had they remained aboard the _Enterprise _both of them would make certain of where the other's position lay. However, this was not the _Enterprise. _What did that make them? Jim could no longer call himself a real Captain here, so was Khan no longer a criminal? Two men as equals, both stranded helplessly with no rank to keep them apart?

_No,_ Jim thought grimly. _Ranks aside, actions are not erasable._ The things that Khan did still happened and there was no way around that. They were terrible, and unforgivable.

Meanwhile, Khan was regarding Jim as if he were something horrific he'd discovered on the bottom of his boot. A disgusted sneer tore across his face. "I can hear you thinking, Kirk," he spat. With a shove, the hands digging into the yellow uniform disappeared as the dark figure stood and backed away, abandoning all former hostilities. "Forget everything. I shall do what you have done before and say: let us ignore this petty quarrel; pretend this never happened and continue what is _really_ important, yes?"

Jim gripped the tree trunks for support as he slowly drew himself up into a stand as well. His mind was still whirling with unforeseen ease, his headache ceasing to exist altogether. Was that because of Khan's blood too?

The man had committed an atrocious crime, and his actions were gruesome. But then what about all the stuff he did that _didn't _fall into those categories?

Khan who had stopped him from drowning, pulled him out of a panic attack, never rose to Jim's provocations and jabs (well, most of the time), obeyed most of Jim's orders, and went out of his way to save Jim's life in a moment of pure danger, hell, even making sure Jim didn't face plant into his own sick. The five foot rule had not died yet either. What did all _that _mean?

"Look... I..." Jim didn't know what he had planned to say, and the words stiffened in his throat when the unnerving stare landed on him. The familiar wave of helplessness overtook his mind. "I don't know why you're doing all this, all of these—" he gestured weakly, "—_good _things when I clearly saw you doing exactly the opposite—"

"I fail to recognize any of my actions as such," Khan stated coldly, "as I simply do not do things because it's _'good'. _I do them because I feel they are necessary, and if you are referring to the event where I helped you avoid a potential disaster ending in your death, it was only logical given the many reasons I have informed you of before."

Oh yes. The 'I-need-to-keep-you-alive-to-get-back-and-possibly -hijack-your-ship' excuse. Jim knew that the man was fully capable of doing so and probably would once they got back. For some strange, odd reason, the idea didn't fill him with the extensive levels of rage and panic as he'd expected it to. Jim made an internal note to go straight to Bones after the rescue to get his mental state analyzed.

"What do you mean, logical? Oh; you mean you, rescuing my ass when anyone would expect you to do otherwise?"

To the captain's wonder, Khan let out a colossal sigh that was exquisitely interlaced with exasperation. "Mister Kirk," he gritted out, "if you are _still_ going on about—"

"Relax." Jim cracked a bitter half-smile. "I was kidding."

"I was not aware that this was a joke," Khan returned with no mirth.

"Yeah. Great." Jim gently prodded at his temple to check its healing process, which was well under its way. He huffed and stretched carefully, making sure he didn't open any more wounds. "You wanted to move on, right? Let's move on, then." He turned and began to walk, using the closely woven trees to stabilize his pace.

"Giving up already? Why are you being so unexpectedly compliant?" Khan inquired suspiciously. He'd quickly followed the captain but Jim couldn't see him because he was still keeping his designated distance from behind. "I was fully prepared to receive another verbal onslaught of your irrational thoughts."

"Hey, unless you want to keep arguing, I suggest you stop talking. In fact, I think we should both stop talking," Jim snapped. He then waited for the response, which did not come. Huh. So that's how it was. "Now, I just threw up all of my food I managed to keep down, so I am going to get some more. Would you like to accompany me?"

"Mister Kirk, stop."

Jim stopped.

There was a rustle, and Khan walked around so that he was standing in front of the captain. "I demand an explanation."

"Oh, so you're ordering me around now?"

"Answer me, Kirk."

"_What do you want from me?"_ Jim nearly shouted, but it more closely resembled a choked exclamation of abject resignation. "I don't know what you're expecting from me right now, but you probably _won't get it_. You're right, I haven't done anything good so far and I've been fucking _useless. _I don't really know why but it just—_happened,_ okay? You probably don't understand but I'm just a human being, not all this heroic legend bullshit that people have been talking about and I've been trying, and failing miserably, to live up to. I'm tired of everyone expecting me to do something better than what I've done before that only happened not because I'm just that good, but because it _was _pure, stupid luck!

"And maybe you think I have some _grandiose plan_ concocted up my sleeve ready to use at any given moment, but I don't. I have _no idea_ what I'm doing. I am _so_ confused, and everything you do is confusing me, it doesn't make sense! You—you're supposed to be... evil, power-mad, and murderous or _something,_ I _don't know._ If you were then at least I'd know what to do and expect. But now nothing is turning up the way I expected it to and my mind is going crazy because of it. I just— _who even are you?" _As his diatribe drew to an abrupt halt, a twinge of humiliation and shame trickled into his veins for just having spilled his deep, innermost feelings to very bane of his current existence, yet he also felt unexpectedly relieved, as if something heavy had just been lifted off his chest.

Instead of the belittlement and mockery he braced himself for, he was only given a slight tilt of the head and an almost thoughtful blink. "Thing are not as simplistic as you might wish they are, Captain," Khan said smoothly. "This isn't a child's game. Not everything is set in black and white."

"Well you know, most of the orders I get from above are simple like that. Black and white. I sometimes don't follow them because I think that people's lives are so much more than just a simple work pawn. And knowing you, you might not understand where I'm coming from." This was not the complete truth, because in all honesty, Jim did _not_ know this enigmatic man as he would have liked. And despite saying all this, Jim slowly began to feel his initial sense of suspicion and malice towards Khan hopelessly slipping away, no matter how hard he tried to grasp onto it. He was tired; so tired of accusing him, tired of bringing himself to keep a reminder that this was the wrong sort of company that he should keep. He already had more than enough to worry about, and yet here he was still going through a petty internal crisis whether or not it was safe to even look at the man.

"Is it because I 'saved' you?" asked Khan with a small cock of his brow, addressing the unspoken question that was as clear as daylight to anyone. "The notion of being dependant on a _war criminal_ too much for you to handle, Mister Kirk?"

"I—" Jim paused, then pressed on before his courage failed altogether. "I'm not sorry that my life was saved," he said finally. "And I am... grateful for that. But really, it's not like you."

"Oh, but Captain." The pale lips curled up into a pleasant but equally chilling smile that did not reach the eyes. "You don't know me at all."

"And just because you can talk, doesn't mean you truly know who I am, either," Jim returned frigidly.

"Oh, I assure you, Captain, that I fully expect to discover new things about you on the constant side for the time being. It seems to be the pattern; after all, you are always full of surprises."

"I don't think_ I—"_ Suddenly in that exact moment, Jim was cut off as a tremendous force equating to a hundred photon grenades detonating at once sent both him and Khan propelling backwards at alarming speeds into the air, along with splintering trees and a storm of mud.

"Arrgh!" The captain landed hard with a splash on a swampy bed of moss, his ears and eyes flooding with water. He then proceeded to roll several feet onto stiff, dry ground, his limbs tangling awkwardly. "_Jesus Christ..."_ Jim groaned and jerkily extracted himself from where he'd stopped in a thicket of fluffy shrubs, the world spinning fervently before his eyes. Before he had the time to properly collect himself, an elephantine wood crumbled, leaned, and collapsed only mere inches away from where he lay. The impact of the massive debris shook the ground violently like a faulty shuttle, jostling the captain as he frantically scrambled to get up.

This time, the severity of the situation was escalating much more vigorously, as if something was hurriedly trying to finish things off. The trees were splintering apart one after another like an irregular set of dominoes, some being torn right out of the ground by its roots by an unknown force. In a blink of an eye the serene jungle was being blown apart by an invisible attacker, with Jim caught in the middle of it. Determined not to make the same mistake again, he didn't allow himself the time to wonder what the hell was going on. The minute he regained balance on his two feet, he _bolted. _

He ducked as more flying masses of lethal projectiles soared this way and that, slipping and sliding in the overturned swamp. More than once he very nearly got flattened by monstrous branches that lunged for his life, and the very planet's crust seemed to rumble and quake. For the umpteenth time Jim skidded and veered off course just in time as deadly splinters the size of lamp posts rained down like an angry hurricane.

He wouldn't be able to last for long like this, Jim realized desperately, and adrenaline pumped through his veins though his muscles were screaming in protest. He couldn't let this go on, whatever it was. It was unfair, and illogical.

"Khan!" Jim yelled over the deafening roar of the chaos around him. A good number of trees around him were completely demolished by now, and the immense canopy that had shielded them so snugly before was no longer there, leaving him to feel notably exposed and distressed. "_Khan!"_

It was a wonder the ground hadn't begun to split apart yet; at this rate, it was almost impossible to maintain his balance. A piercing pain suddenly registered in Jim's brain and he looked down to discover a small, serrated fragment of shattered rock protruding out of his calf. He swore loudly, though it was drowned in the sea of ear-piercing crashes. He quickly yanked it out, barely recognizing the sharp throb as it tore at his raw muscle. Though there were such little trees left around him that could seriously do harm, he had to move on. He couldn't stay here directly under the sun, unprotected from the stuff that could be out there—

A muffled shouting made Jim's head rear back sharply. His ears howling and chest threatening to burst, he pushed himself at a sprinting pace again towards the sound. "Khan!" Jim roared again. "_Where are you?"_

"Here, Kirk!" The voice was definitely much closer than before. Jim picked his way rapidly through the wreckage, where there were more trees but less undergrowth and the ground was unevenly caked with mounds of dirt. Rounding a pile of crumbling roots and twigs, Jim finally discovered the man. He was hunched over awkwardly, favoring his left leg, and his fringe was raggedly falling out of place into his visage. To Jim's alarm, Khan was adorned with extensive lacerations that were fresh, bruising, and bleeding. A nasty gash distinctly visible on his scalp was positively gushing, blood running in small rivulets down his face and off his chin. His eyes were bright with pain and his lips were white as he clamped them together with unnatural force.

"I—" Jim stuttered, arms flailing to steady himself as the ground shivered again. "Are y—"

"We must find immediate cover before this place blows itself to pieces," Khan snarled, almost falling over from the impact of another nearby tree meeting its demise. "I found a natural crevice under a hill of rocks when I was blown away and we will use that for the time being. _Now,_ Captain, if you wish to survive!"

The two men tore themselves away and Jim let Khan lead the path, the blood coursing through his veins. Now that he was the one following, Jim allowed himself a little time to look around and study the sky. Not a single obstruction to veil the vast blue, the excruciatingly bright sunlight scorching down upon the surface.

"Are you alright?" Jim yelled at Khan, who never paused to hesitate in his lightning pace despite his injuries.

"Are_ you?"_ came the short reply, and Jim, despite their situation, barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. And _right then_, the very moment in which he had cast his eyes slightly upwards, was the moment where Jim would later thank every God he knew for his ability to maintain his exasperation in such hazardous conditions.

It was only there for a split heartbeat, but it was enough for Jim to do a double take. A vaguely transparent outline of_ something _was hurling across the air, in breakneck speed towards their location. He had no time to warn Khan, however, because literally half a second later the very tree in which they were headed towards more or less _exploded _with such ferocity that Jim was blown off his feet once more. He somersaulted backwards once, twice, and flopped down with a big 'oomph', his spine giving a nasty twinge. Jim could feel a large tear running through his uniform in his right side, and one of his lower trouser legs had been shredded from being snagged in something along the way. Without giving himself the time to even be shocked, Jim snapped up to his feet and half-scuttled, half-crawled towards the dark figure that was currently picking himself up from the shaking ground.

"_Did you see that!?_" Jim bellowed in Khan's face, having reached the man and yanking at the black uniform to help straighten him up. "_Did you fucking see that!?"_

"We are close to the rocks!" Khan shouted back, wrenching himself away from the captain's grip and staggering all over the place. "It's just ahead there, where that hill is—"

"There was something there!" Jim shrieked, spit flying from his mouth. "Something invisible, but I saw it! _I saw it! _A_ sh—"_

"_Kirk, watch out!"_ The captain was interrupted when the wind was punched right out of his gut as Khan shoved him out of the way with one clean sweep of his foot. However, the momentum caused the man to slip in the mud and tumble to the ground, which by then it was already too late.

Jim watched with abject horror as a giant, branching section of the collapsing tree in front of them severed itself from the rest and crashed right where he'd been previously standing, atop the man's outstretched leg. Even over the thunderous commotion he still heard the sickening, telltale _'snap'_ of bone being shattered.

Khan opened his mouth and let out the most frighteningly _dreadful,_ agonized scream Jim had ever heard in his entire life. It pierced its way through his system, shaking his very core, and Jim landed flat on his bottom when his knees decided to give out. His breath came in short, heaving gasps, petrified at what had happened before his eyes.

Khan was still howling in pain, his face twisted and screwed into a mask of pure anguish. Jim could see from his angle that the man's hands were already caked with blood from gripping at his injury. Just as Khan managed to tear his mangled leg from under the debris by digging through the mud, Jim saw the next disaster approaching. He screamed a frantic "_No!" _but it was of no use.

Dozens of thick, wooden shards, broken off like long stakes, were descending from the sky. The captain quickly dived away from its general destination, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain that erupted in his shoulders as the smaller ones embedded themselves into his flesh. He looked up, and time seemed to freeze as he watched the scene unfold ahead as if in slow motion.

Having finally freed himself from the devastation, Khan was heaving himself up using the fallen log as leverage, head cast down and oblivious to the catastrophe above him. One of the lethal fragments whizzed down and pierced clean through Khan's back and out his stomach with a nauseating _'schluck'. _A small grunt tumbled from the man's lips, followed by a stream a dark, crimson liquid that dripped steadily in thick droplets, contrasting sharply against his pallid demeanor. He stumbled forward a few steps, until he came to an abrupt halt and collapsed like a lifeless doll, disappearing behind the fallen log.

Jim was not even aware that the entire destruction was beginning to cease. He did not notice how the last couple of trees teetered before standing still, how the ground no longer shook like a leaf in the wind. The silence that immediately followed was even louder than anything he'd ever heard up till now. His heart was racing and blood roaring throughout his body, as he rigidly pushed his weight forward so that he was on all fours. His legs did not function, no matter how much he willed them to work. The strain placed on his shoulders would definitely break the splinters nesting under his skin, but he didn't care. It was quiet, too quiet for Jim's liking. Slowly and cautiously, as if afraid he would awaken some horrific beast, Jim began to crawl towards the fallen log. Once he reached it, he pretended not to notice the puddle of red splattering among the dark soil, smeared on the shredded tree bark.

He eventually rounded the slight corner, and Jim choked on his own saliva.

Lying precariously in a motionless manner was Khan, his limbs sprawled in irregular positions and an elongated wooden shard was protruding grotesquely out of his abdomen, as if he'd been speared by a Nibiran back on Nibiru that Jim had had a close encounter with the tribe on. It seemed like such a long time ago. He stared in utter trepidation, taking in the battered and defeated figure of a man who once held himself so high.

And that blood—oh, all of that precious, dangerous yet life-saving blood—was steadily gushing out in steady streams, drenching the black hair and staining the white face a deep crimson that reeked of iron. He purposely avoided landing his sight on Khan's right leg, because even from the corners of his eyes he could tell by the deranged angle it lay in that it had been quite mercilessly pulverized.

Jim swallowed the lump rising from his throat and watched the limp figure, silently praying that Khan would twitch, move, or show any sort of hint that he was conscious again and alive. But there was nothing. Not even a slightest twinge of a muscle or blink of an eye, and Jim was too afraid to reach out and check for a pulse. He was beginning to feel the familiar signs of another panic attack, his chest constricting painfully. _No,_ he thought frantically. He couldn't lose it again, not now. He'd never be able to pull himself together like this, not without Khan...

"G—" His throat felt like it was laced with barbed wire; words had difficulty surfacing from the bottom. "Fuck—" When the stronger side failed, there wasn't much the rest of the remaining could do.

"...Khan." His voice sounding far too small, Jim warily extended out a hand and placed it on a limp shoulder. The simple touch should have been enough to rouse the man. "You—" he swallowed thickly, tongue laying stiff and hot, "—you okay?"

The silence and the beating of his own heart answered him. No haughty response of 'are you?', no frigid glare. Jim exhaled shakily.

Suddenly, he felt so alone. Reduced back to a small child, huddled under his bed away from the scary monsters that threatened to tear his life apart.

Whatever was left in him, it was up to Jim to decide on the next course of action. Suddenly the notion of making his own decisions seemed very foreign and strange. Had he really been that dependent on Khan to do most of the thinking all this time?

Apparently the shelter was not too far away. Looking around, he saw that the 'hill' that Khan had mentioned was actually small, rising ledge in the ground that consisted of dry stone. It was about one hundred meters away from their current position, a distance that should've been a piece of cake yet Jim felt like it was light years away. Another glance at Khan's mangled body sent a surge of energy in him, however, and so he stifled all thoughts of despair and rose shakily to his feet.

After Jim had yanked out most of the bigger splinters and shards he'd accumulated on his own body, his uniform was spotted with blood and the wounds stung where the fabric rubbed irritatingly over raw skin. Moving Khan was a bigger complication than anything else. The man seemed to have already ceased bleeding in copious volumes, but he'd still lost quite a large amount of blood. There was also the_ tiny_ concern of that thing sticking out of his stomach, Jim thought, wincing at the idea of having to pull it out. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain of having that jostled around. He would've liked to lift him off the ground completely, but when he tried, quickly discovered that Khan was nothing but dead weight and Jim could barely carry him for more than three steps.

"Shit," Jim swore, and decided to just go with the old fashioned arm-around-shoulder. With a massive heave he hauled the lifeless figure up, and stumbled forward. A low, guttural moan escaped Khan's mouth as his leg scraped the ground. Jim had to reach around and under the wooden stake to get a full grip around Khan's waist, and just like that he began the tedious journey towards the rocks.

When they finally reached their destination, Jim was ready to collapse and die. His face and half of his tattered uniform was dripping with sweat, and he carelessly wiped them away. He saw that there indeed was a fairly large crevice in the rocks which, on the inside, would be rather cramped for two people but better than nothing nonetheless. It wasn't exactly a cave, more of a gap in between two broad layers of stone. Jim shuffled inside first, then tucked his arms under Khan's armpits and dragged him inside. Before he was able to properly lean him against the dirt though, his hand, lubricated with sweat and blood, slipped and Khan landed right on the wooden splinter, pushing it in even deeper. The man emitted a startled cry and his body convulsed in a spasm of pain, while Jim cursed loudly at the same time.

To the captain's immense relief, he noticed Khan's eyelids had at least cracked open. The eyes that were bright, glassy, and unseeing twitched around until they rested bemusedly on Jim. His mouth opened and failed to speak, only managing a bare minimum of shallow gasping. Jim broke the gaze and carefully pushed him over so he was lying on his side. He had to get that... _thing_ out, now. But oh, he was no doctor. How Jim wished for Bones to be here with him. He tried to think of what McCoy would say in a situation like this, tried to think like a _doctor,_ and when he drew a blank, Jim discovered that he'd never loathed himself so much like this ever since he had woken up on this planet.

But he had to do something. Pulling out the fragment fully was atrocious; it was, after all, the only thing that was keeping Khan from bleeding out more, the stopper on a bottle of shaken cider. He didn't have the proper equipment, whatever that would be. But at least he could break the splinter and that would make more room and give a slight freedom to move around.

Jim steeled himself and reached for the bloody abomination. When he wrapped his fingers around the jagged shaft, Khan gave no move to acknowledge it. His eyelids, however, remained unlatched though the eyes stared dully at nothing in particular. Counting under his breath to three, Jim clenched his muscles and yanked his arm back as hard as he could manage. The stake broke in two with a satisfying _'crack!',_ and Khan let out a sharp wail as the remaining portion embedded deep into his flesh dug even more fiercely through his insides. Jim glowered feebly at the twenty four inch rod in his fist with repulsion. He chucked it away through the large crack out of the cave. Now, there wasn't anything sticking out of the man's back and so he quickly maneuvered the limp figure into a more comfortable position on his back. Khan simply stared up at Jim, blinking in a sluggish manner.

"Wha'?" Jim wheezed haggardly. "Have somethin' t'say?"

Khan opened his mouth, but only a rushed breath escaped his lips. The action caused his chest to deflate and a fresh stream of blood spurted once from the abdominal wound.

"Stop' i'," Jim rasped, placing a hand near the man's stomach and flinching away when Khan protested with an incoherent grunt. "Stop; don' move, makin' i' worse..."

By now the blood was welling up freely again, the small bit of new skin Khan's regenerative cells had molded _around_ the offending obtrusion instantly tearing. Jim gripped the edge of the black uniform and peeled it halfway up, to fully reveal the true horrors of the injury. With each pump of Khan's heart, more red spilled out of the corners of the cylindrical laceration, the harsh contrast of white and crimson making his head spin.

"No," Jim mumbled absentmindedly, collapsing back against the rough wall, limbs like water from sheer exhaustion. "Y'can't... n't like this..."

Khan blinked again, and parted his lips once more. His neck convulsed, gaze stubbornly fixed on the other. "...jlrg—" A strained gurgle ripped from deep within his throat. "Jihg... glrph... _Jiphm—"_

The captain slumped tiredly and buried his face in his arms. He was too weary to do anything more, and it seemed the little energy boost he'd gotten back then was only temporary and left him even more drained. He didn't think about how his own body was littered with bruises and bleeding gashes, how the wound in his calf was buried in the dirt, soiling it with germs, how the other man, caked with blood almost head to toe, lying before him so desperate to retrieve his vocal chords, pushing every bit of his remaining strength not for Kirk, but to say the name '_Jim_'...

Jim felt himself almost physically plummeting into a blissful void of sheer numbness and oblivion, and the last thing he saw was blood and a mess of tangled, black hair.

Khan let his eyes slip closed.

* * *

~*o*~

* * *

"Sir, we are being hailed by a Starfleet craft." Upon entering the bridge after a restless round of pacing in his quarters, Spock veered immediately towards the chair and seated himself.

"On screen, please." The screen flickered and the pixels cleared to show a sharp man dressed in clean, pristine uniform.

"Greetings, Mister Spock," the man said.

"Admiral Marcus," Spock returned respectfully, nodding his head once. He made sure to hide his alarm at this sudden call behind a mask of practiced indifference. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Well I was about to ask you the same thing," Marcus said, raising an eyebrow. "Is everything alright there? I sense you have a couple of difficult situations at hand."

Spock regarded the Admiral for a moment with an unwavering gaze, as if contemplating something. He then opened his mouth and replied, "There has been an unforeseen technical malfunction with our warp core. Therefore, I am fully aware of the purpose of your visit and will patiently await your arrival."

"What do you mean, Mister Spock?" Marcus asked.

"Surely the reason behind your unofficial departure from Starfleet headquarters was to assist with our internal repairs," Spock said calmly. "If not, then I must raise the impending inquiry of why a Starfleet Admiral would find it necessary to personally assemble himself at a less than practical location for a mere briefing session."

Marcus did not answer. There was a pause as each man regarded one another with a calculating gaze. Finally, there was a deep exhale. "Where is Mister Kirk, Spock?" he asked at last.

The half-Vulcan barely frowned, pressed his lips together slightly, before answering. "Due to some transporting errors, the Captain is regrettably absent and currently not aboard the _Enterprise."_ A beat. "As Acting Captain I take full responsibility over the predicament and am currently utilizing all methods possible to identify Captain Kirk's location for an immediate rescue."

"Really? Why did that happen, I wonder?"

"A full investigation is under way, and once it is complete I will provide you with a full report with the details of the incident."

Marcus's eyes bore into Spock's, an unspoken emotion flitting across the aging face for a split second. "Surely it doesn't have anything to do with you disobeying your orders I gave you?"

Spock did not blink. "I fail to comprehend your—"

"Oh no, I think you do." Marcus crossed his arms. "You didn't kill John Harrison; you brought him aboard with you, did you not? Isn't he responsible for your Captain's _regrettable absence?"_

"Sir..." Spock began, hesitating for a single second, "While I recognize our failure to fulfill your orders, I can present a full explanation as to—"

"Ah, forget it." The Admiral rubbed his forehead tiredly, waving away the excuse. "I understand why you would do that, Spock. Always one to follow the better rules, even if it meant breaking the ones given to you." He chuckled. "It was noble of you to spare Harrison. However, you also need to realize he is a very dangerous man, and needs to be dealt with as soon as possible. I assume he is with Kirk at the moment, yes?"

Spock nodded slowly. "Affirmative."

"I want you to find them both as fast as you can," Marcus ordered. "Once you have them, contact me. I will first escort the prisoner back to Earth for his trial, and then I'll send a repair team to help you with your core."

"With all due respect, Admiral, even if we discover the Captain's new location it will be difficult for the _Enterprise_ to reach said destination. If we receive the repair team now—"

"They used a portable transwarp device, am I right?" Marcus asked, smiling sympathetically. "Because ship transporters have records, you'd know in an instant where they went. Those transwarp devices can't get you very far. Definitely won't reach any place where you'll need to warp to get to. Well, Mister Spock, I wish you luck." With that, the transmission ended abruptly.

Spock leapt to his feet in an instant. He turned around only to face Nyota Uhura, who was frozen in place from having listened to the conversation. "Are you aware of my suspicions?" he asked her quietly.

Uhura nodded. "Seems a bit weird, doesn't it?"

"Indeed. The Admiral has shown quite extensive knowledge about these devices, and Khan's fate as well. If he know this, then is it not strange that he spoke as if unaware of the man's capability to adjust the device's transporting distance limits? Surely after recognizing some of our greatest complications, that would not have been difficult to solve." Spock headed towards the turbolift, and Uhura followed closely behind. The doors swished shut after them.

"And why would he come here?" Uhura added softly after a beat of silence. "And even so, why isn't he at some place where we can see him? He's stopped close enough to send a strong transmission but far enough so our ship can't scan his immediate location."

The lift came to a smooth halt and Spock stepped out. "Lieutenant, please attempt to contact Mister Scott back on Earth and figure out how Khan was able to extend the device's transwarp limits." With those words, he made his way through the hallways towards the cafeteria.

The moment he walked through the doors he spotted the man he was looking for. Spock strode up to one of the back tables where McCoy was shoveling food into his mouth while furiously tapping away at his PADD.

"Go away, Spock," McCoy snapped around a mouthful of turkey once he approached, not bothering to look up. "I just got out of duty five minutes ago. This is my first break in thirteen hours and I'm not going to have you ruin it."

"Doctor, I carry urgent information that requires your full attention," Spock informed him.

"Well leave it urgently," McCoy grumbled, but set the PADD down to glare up at the half-Vulcan with resentment.

"Approximately one minute and fourteen seconds ago we were hailed by none other than Admiral Marcus himself," Spock said. "He has inquired about our ship's incapability to resume warp speed as of current time, and assures that he will send a repair team towards our location."

"...That's it, then?" barked McCoy. "Look, I'm a Doctor, damn it; what was the point of telling me that for? Go talk to that... that _kid_ down in engineering. Poor soul must be shitting his pants by now."

"He was also familiar with Captain Kirk's and Khan's disappearance off the _Enterprise,_ along with the fact that they were transported off this ship via transwarp device."

McCoy, who was still trying to cram his entire dinner into his mouth, suddenly spewed mashed potatoes across the table like an erupting volcano. Most of it landed on Spock, who just calmly wiped his face free of any debris while the doctor choked violently.

"What—" Meal long forgotten, McCoy scrambled to his feet and stared demandingly at the unmoving figure. "_What the hell did you just say?"_

"Admiral Marcus possessed a broad range of knowledge concerning our current—"

"_Marcus?"_

"Affirmative, and he requested our search for the Captain and Khan be—"

"Whoa, wait a minute, he knows about _Khan?"_

"Doctor, are your hearing capabilities compromised?"

"Damn it, man, if you told the Admiral that we saved Khan—"

"I did nothing of the sort. I myself have difficulties perceiving the methods Admiral Marcus utilized to arrive to such conclusions—correctly, I might add—and there are still many new complications that have risen from this news. I calculated that the first logical course of action was to inform you immediately."

With that, the two of them left the cafeteria to head towards the medbay. On the way, Spock recounted his and Marcus's conversation in full detail, leaving nothing out. By the time they arrived, McCoy looked like he'd just aged ten years.

"And thus, I have requested Lieutenant Uhura to establish contact with Mister Scott to assist with analyzing the methods Khan used to alter this device," Spock concluded once they stepped into the currently empty bay.

"Damn it, man, are you a science officer or not?" hissed McCoy furiously. "Can't you come up with something instead of pushing the job around to other people?"

"I too have visualized multiple theories as to how long distance travel via transwarp devices is made possible, Doctor," Spock replied. "However, I wish to confirm said theories by consulting the very individual who has devised these transporters."

"Fine, whatever. But this just doesn't add up. How does Marcus know we had Khan? How did he already know that he and Jim were missing? Why is he only coming to us now? And if he knew that much about the transporters and their distance limits, then he obviously should've known that someone like Khan could've easily hacked into it to suit his needs."

"No individual on this ship is familiar with the way Khan acts or works," Spock said, "and that applies to the Admiral as well. It is questionable that he should be aware of Khan's full potential in the first place."

McCoy groaned loudly. "Damn it, Spock! Can't you see what I'm trying to imply? Why can't he send that repair team over now? And why isn't he more concerned? Our Captain and a god damn _space terrorist_ are stuck on some lone planet halfway across the galaxy_ together_. It's not that hard. Look, what I'm saying is," and though they were alone, he still lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, "what if he doesn't want us to warp for some reason?"

"You are suggesting that the Admiral lied and that he is possibly aware of Captain Kirk's location, and might have intentionally suspended us here," Spock said sharply. "That is most illogical."

"Illogical, but not unlikely," McCoy muttered darkly. "Everything that you've told me about what he said _doesn't make sense._ He wouldn't just let something as disobeying his direct orders go as easily as that. Everything, I tell you, _everything_ about what he did and said is weird. And don't pretend I'm the only one thinking this! You're thinking it, too, I can see it!"

"Though I've harbored my doubts, it would not be wise to jump to any conclusions before authenticating more proof. That is why I've come to you, Doctor. I request that you join the investigation with Lieutenant Uhura to first analyze our main problems at hand. I shall look into the matters concerning Admiral Marcus."

"Wait, you're telling me do these things I have no idea how to—"

"You and Carol Marcus managed to successfully activate and dismember one of the torpedoes," Spock reminded him, eyebrow raised. "Your flawless teamwork and ability to collaborate with others should provide no problems with this task, either."

"That was an _accident_," McCoy spat, glowering. "...Oh, alright, fine, I'll do it! _Bloody hobgoblins..."_ The Doctor left the medbay with those words, still grumbling to himself. When the door was shut behind him, Spock allowed his impeccable posture to sag just a little, and seated himself on one of the biobeds. He felt the waves of worry and anxiety coursing through his veins and didn't even care when he realized at that moment, he was feeling very, very scared.

* * *

**So not much of a cliffhanger this time because the date in which the next chapter will be posted is unclear. I was originally going to leave it at Jim and Khan, but then thought that it would be better if I showed you the last scene as well, for a couple of reasons. Anyways, thanks again for reading!**

**Like? Love? Hate? Please tell me what you think; your reviews will be greatly appreciated! :)**


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